The Broke Blokes
by Oni Giri Slash
Summary: Sanji wants to be a respected citizen of the modern world, but he's jobless, moneyless and soon to be homeless. He meets up with an old rival who now thrives amongst the moss covered alleys. Together can they find their place in the modern world?COMPLETE!
1. Moss

**A/N : Hi there everyone! The holidays are almost here! YOSH! And now I'll be able to have time to write -.- study takes up too much of my time. Here's my newest idea for another story. IT IS NOT YAOI! Hope you all enjoy it!**

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**The Broke Blokes**

**"One will always find moss in the shadows" **

There had been more and more noise coming from the closed blue door located down the dark, narrow, brick laid alley. The black cats had been scared away by the ruckus and the mice population flourished as a result of it, becoming as annoying as the noise. Today, however, was the loudest. Crashing of glass and china, howls of revenge and the continues foul words filled the alley, climbing the moss covered walls and entering the opened dustbins – there was no escaping it.

He had been a nocturnal creature for some years now; so a little daylight noise wasn't going to tempt him off his turf. He would just have to deal with it until the sun went down and the shadows hid him from the world, then he would move and find out what caused such noise.

Apparently, he wouldn't have to wait that long.

The blue door swung open, grinding the opposite wall as it had always done, as fifty or so mismatched hands from various people heaved another person out. The shouting was louder now that the door was open, though the moss absorbed some of their swearing.

"Let go of me!" he snapped, twisting away from the numerous hands. "I can lead myself out of your crappy restaurant."

"You're fired you blonde twit!" A voice growled loudly before slamming the door in the man's face.

He glared hard at the door with an eye and lit a cigarette. "It's Sanji, dumb-ass." He turned sharply on his black heels and stalked down the alley. It wasn't as though he wanted to work in a place as low as 'Lee's Little Restaurant'. Yes it was a restaurant; yes it was definitely 'little'; and yes Lee was the largest jerk Sanji had ever the misfortune to meet. But he needed that job to pay the rent of his apartment, the electricity, the water and for a little food and – let's face it – without that money from 'Lee's Little Restaurant', his life was going to do a major u-turn. Backwards.

Sanji shoved his hands deep into his pockets and kicked an old coke tin along the brick work. It flew true and clunked dully into a shadowy corner.

"Oomph!"

Sanji stopped and stared into the darkness. There was something different about the moss that grew there. Perhaps it may have flourished from the extra gloom or perhaps it was the way it moved forward, picked up the can and threw it back.

Stunned at what he had just witnessed, Sanji stepped closer and said, "Hello?" Not to his surprise he earned another grunt. It was just some down-and-out who dwelled at the back of the restaurant and lived on food scraps. Sanji despised these sorts of people who were too lazy to contribute to the good of modern day society and who made the alcohol industry rich.

The down-and-out moved.

"Stay where you are, poor-man," Sanji warned darkly.

Through the mountain of rags and paper and eye appeared. The pupils dilated becoming alert, dangerous, and deadly. Yet there was a hint of pride that Sanji found he was envious of.

"I can't see," the man replied dryly, "not while the sun is up." The mound shifted its position. "You're the idiot that makes all the noise. Who are you?"

"What do you want to know for?"

"No reason," he replied carelessly, the mound began to curl up.

"It's Sanji," Sanji mumbled – slightly ashamed that his name had never become one connected to a world famous chef.

Another eye opened. "Sanji?" The mound rose, the rags and paper fell away, revealing a more human figure.

Sanji watched the transformation with growing dread, until those familiar eyes burned into his. Tugging on his collar he said, "Zoro?"

Zoro growled inwardly as he stared at his old companion. "What the hell are you doing here, dart-brow?"

Sanji looked at the mound of life-less rags and back to Zoro. "You live…there?" He pointed at the dark corner. "You are lower than low, Marimo," he sucked hard on his dying cigarette. "It's disgusting."

Zoro sneered at the blonde, pasty man. "So? I'm happy right here." He leaned casually against the wall of his moss-covered home.

Sanji looked hard at his old rival who had found some form of happiness beneath his brown coloured rags, in his home amongst the mossy bricks. He, for a fleeting moment, pictured himself doing the same if he didn't find a job soon – it was an image he would expect in nightmares. There was no happiness for him doing what Zoro did. Besides, it was disgusting and who knew what the coming winter would be like. Sanji turned sharply and walked away.

"You got fired again, eh?" Zoro called after.

The blonde man stiffened. "I don't need to work there."

"Seems to me you do," slurred the green headed man. "Someone who works in such a down-and-out place is a desperate man."

Sanji spun around to face him, his blood boiled fiercely beneath his white skin. "I am not a desperate man!"

"Are too," Zoro retorted. "I can tell by the way you suck on that cigarette, like it's the last one you'll ever light and breathe in."

Sanji became suddenly aware of the cigarette butt caught between his teeth and hastily spat it out, stamping on it and twisting the dying embers out. He stared at the smudge left in the ground. Oddly enough, it was his last one – he no longer could afford to keep smoking and the sad truth of the situation was that Sanji was getting desperate to find a secure job; Zoro had just brought that painful fact out into the open. "Bloody Marimo," he muttered.

Zoro watched Sanji in annoyance. What was the blonde man trying to do? Was he trying to right the wrongs of this world? Was he being something he wasn't? Or was he trying to fit in like every other man and woman on the street? He had personally tried that, fitting in, but it never worked with him – almost drove him into despair. That was until he found the pleasures of being free. Every dark corner was some place to live for a night and he didn't have to pay rent or mortgage or anything! In his eyes the world was his and his world only consisted of him.

"What?!" Zoro had just fleetingly caught the meaning of what Sanji was asking of him.

Sanji frowned angrily, trying to keep together whatever pride remained. "You're a prime example of what I don't want to become, Marimo," Sanji said. "I need to find a bloody job damn quick and you're going to help me."

Zoro felt his world being invaded. "Like hell!" He snapped. "Why should I help you?"

Sanji felt for his thinning wallet. "I'll buy you lunch."

The tanned face of Zoro's instantly changed. "Include dinner too and you've got a deal."

"Deal."

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**A/N: Yep, the story is set in modern-ish time XP!! Tell me what you think - no flamers! - REVIEWS! REVIEWS! REVIEWS!**


	2. Anywhere else

**Giri: Next Chapters up!**

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**"A friend is someone who is there for you when he'd rather be anywhere else"  
- Len Wein -  
**

He stopped at the edge of the alley's long shadow that flowed to the ground and filled the cracks between the loose fitting brick work and stared out at the sun filled car park as Sanji walked between the many vehicles, looking for the one that was his. The blonde man stopped at an old little wagon and looked over its once blue roof top at Zoro.

"Well?"

Zoro stepped out into the sunlight for the first time in many ages, feeling the heat on his exposed arms and neck. Now that he was closer, he observed Sanji's car, noting the many dents and scratches along the side – it was hardly road worthy. Still, Sanji unlocked the door with a grimy silver key and flung himself behind the wheel. Though Zoro assumed Sanji couldn't weigh any more than a sack of potatoes the car groaned dangerously beneath his weight and tilted abnormally to one side.

Sanji kicked the opposite door open. "Come on, Marimo," he growled.

Zoro eased himself into the plastic seating, feeling the car tilt in his favour and closed the blue door which was connected by a dangling hinge and reached for his non-existing seatbelt.

Sanji jammed the key into the ignition and turned it sharply and to Zoro's amazement the car bounded forward like a hyperactive dog on the end of a leash. Sanji pressed his foot hard on the accelerator and Zoro could swear they were going forward.

It took them five minutes to exit the car park.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Zoro pressed his forehead against the window and watched as it gave way and fell onto the road with a smash.

Sanji was too preoccupied with steering a car with a mind of its own to notice what Zoro had done. "Shut-up idiot," he snapped, leaning to the right as if it would help the car turn – and it probably did. "Be happy you don't have to walk. Besides, you don't even _have_ a car."

"Yeah, well at least I don't have to sink into my seat every time the police drive pass," replied Zoro coldly. He watched as an old couple raced past, leaning heavily on their walking sticks and looking like carriers of every disease discovered.

Sanji ignored him, cursing as the lights ahead turned red; he began to frantically pump the brakes. The old car nudged the car in front of it before coming to a halt; Sanji leaned back into his chair and waited for the lights to change.

After a minute of heavy traffic, the lights flicked to green and Sanji pressed his foot down onto the accelerator. Again the car lurched forward; it rolled along for three meters before coming to a stubborn halt. Sanji twisted the key in the ignition as the traffic honked and swerved around them.

Zoro watched indifferently.

The car gave one last chug before dying out all together. Sanji banged the dashboard with his fist, trying to revive it with threats and curses. Zoro, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped out, relieving the vehicle and causing it to tip Sanji's way, and strode across the road leaving Sanji behind with his car.

Sanji watched him go, kicked open his door and pushed the little car to the side of the road. He kicked the front wheel of his car and watched in disbelief as it rolled away, causing havoc as it did. Sanji hurriedly went after the moss-headed man.

"OI! HEY! MOSS-BRAIN!"

Zoro stopped and gazed up at the blue sky that was crissed-crossed with chem-trails and waited for the chef to catch up.

"Finally ditched that pathetic excuse for a vehicle, eh?" He grunted, and started walking again.

Sanji growled and said, "Yeah."

Zoro gave a lopsided smirk and entered a pub.

The two stepped into a bubble of complete silence. Sanji found that with the yellow pub light, faces were hard to focus on; deep shadows lined their suspicion as their beady eyes pierced through him.

"It's all right," Zoro loudly informed the silence, raising his hands in greeting, "he's a friend. _Friend_."

Understanding, the bar erupted into loud talk and low concealing whispers, invisible hands continued to weave in and out, exchanging something, which to Sanji, must have been illegal.

Zoro tossed his body into a wooden chair and thumped his dirty boots onto the table. "Right," he said, "I'm hungry, and I want lunch."

Sanji wrinkled his nose in disgust. Zoro had no right to talk to him in that ungrateful manner – that attitude would have to be dealt with and the sooner, the better. Waving for the waiter, Sanji drew up a chair across from Zoro, sat down and picked up the menu. "From now on," Sanji told him formally, "you will not talk like some drunk."

Zoro snorted.

"You will communicate using real words and not air pressured up behind your sinuses," he continued and pushed, without touching, Zoro's boots off the table. "They will stay on the ground at all times. I don't know how, but you're going to have to find yourself a new attire." Sanji eyed Zoro's oily, moss covered garments with distaste. "No one will want a walking germ to work for them."

Zoro glared hard at him. "Germ? That's a bit strong for a single-celled critter like yourself, dart-brow."

"At least I don't smell of rat piss."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's self explanatory," Sanji replied darkly, turning to the arrived waiter. "We'll have two plates of 'Murray's Moving Meat' and today's gourmet special the…" Sanji squinted in the light to read. "The 'Horrible Smudge on the Plate'," he looked up at Zoro. "Who makes up these names?"

Zoro shrugged. The waiter scribbled the orders down and rushed away. Sanji leaned forward onto the worn wooden table, tapping a rhythm with his fingers, listening to the noisy pub, trying to ignore the cold atmosphere over their table – table number twelve.

"So…" Sanji began after a long while. "Haven't seen you for years, Marimo, what have you been doing besides sleeping in corners?"

Zoro stared at him dully. "That basically consumes my days."

"Ah," Sanji looked around the pub for inspiration, for a topic starter, for a distraction, anything!

Seeing Sanji's pathetic attempt to make conversation, Zoro said, "Well…what have _you_ been doing?"

"Trying to secure myself a decent job," replied Sanji, turning his eyes back to the green haired man. "I need to get another car now that the other one finally choked. And I got a letter demanding that I had better pay for my electricity…"

Zoro faded out at this point. Problems, problems, problems, were all Sanji was full of, who seemed happy enough to unload them onto someone else. The waiter laid their orders onto the table without Sanji's notice. Zoro ate ravenously and seeing that the man with the wallet wasn't hungry he welcomed himself to his plate, cleaning that too before ordering himself more. And still Sanji continued.

Zoro rubbed his swollen gut tenderly and gave a satisfied burp. "And what do you plan to do when you secure a decent job?" He asked, breaking Sanji off in mid-sentence.

"I want to buy a house!" Sanji replied enthusiastically. "Not some apartment, or unit, or renting or whatever. A real house."

"A house?" Zoro snorted. "Is that all?"

Sanji sighed. "No. At some stage I wouldn't mind getting married and raising a bunch of kids, but…yeah." He watched as the waiter placed a docket onto their table. Sanji picked it up and frowned. "Hey you," he called, "I never ordered all this? You must have the wrong table!" His gaze floated onto the over bloated Zoro.

He managed to grunt, "What?"

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**Giri: I hoped you liked this chapter of The Broke Blokes. Please review!**


	3. Poor

**"The only living societies are those which are animated by inequality and injustice."  
- Paul Claudel -  
**

It had taken most the day to walk back to Sanji's apartment, located in a slum somewhere in the east and along the city's outskirts. By the time they had reached the teetering apartment building the sun had been eclipsed by the surrounding skyscrapers which gave the towers an angelic golden glow. Even the industrial smog had some sort of heavenly look about it as it drifted its way into the weakening atmosphere.

Sanji lead Zoro up the twisting staircases that creaked and groaned and threatened to give way to those who didn't know that step twenty-four and step sixty-six weren't there. The higher they went, the creakier the stairs became.

"You have to leap here," Sanji mumbled, gazing at the gap where the seventieth, seventy-first, second, third and fourth step should have been. Sanji leapt across with ease and stood at the landing.

Zoro looked down at the massive gap, shrugged and jumped, landing on the other side without so much as to disturbing the dust. The wood beneath him gave a moan of discontent and gave way.

Surprised, Zoro leaped to the stair above. It too, seemed to be screaming in agony before giving way. Sanji watched on with amusement.

At last a step accepted his weight and Zoro continued his normal climb to the landing. "That's one heck of a bloody touchy staircase," he said, glancing back.

Sanji shrugged. "It stops the landlady from coming up here and demanding that I pay up. She can't jump two steps, let alone ten." He turned to a browning door and unlocked it with an old fashioned black key and opened wide the door.

Zoro looked into the gloom. The hallway was the narrowest he had ever seen; anyone one foot wide was going to have to brush both walls. Zoro turned himself sideways and scuttled in.

Sanji flicked on the kitchen light. "This is kitchen, dining room and entertainment room."

"Hmm," Zoro looked over the small kitchen. A small two chair table sat in the very centre. The sink was half a foot wide; the cupboards above it were hideously low. There was no oven, except a tiny microwave placed on the narrow bench and the toaster had been thrown into the bin. A portable fridge was on the floor.

Sanji pointed to a door hidden away in the corner. "That's the toilet and shower," he travelled a little farther into the house and opened the only door left to open. It was the bedroom. Sanji had a large double bed dominating the entire floor space. There was just enough room to put in a small bedside table and tiny lamp.

Zoro frowned. "This place is a dump!" He turned to Sanji. "And you can't even pay the rent on it? Jeez, and you said I was low." Zoro jumped backwards as Sanji raised a threatening leg, he couldn't raise it all the way due to the narrow confinement of his apartment so he placed it back down.

Zoro sneered at this.

"Get lost Rat-Stench then," Sanji growled.

"I will," snapped Zoro, edging sideways down the hall. "But you promised dinner so I'll be coming back to get it." He pulled open the door and slammed it shut behind him.

In frustration Sanji lifted his leg again and managed to kick the wall. His foot fell through and the hole swallowed his thigh. There was just no end to the misery.

Zoro stormed down the staircase, creating more gaps then ever before and hurled himself out onto the street. He stood in the evening breeze, ignoring his growling stomach and decided to go for a walk until Sanji had prepared dinner.

Zoro had never bothered to come to this part of town, mostly because the competition was too great and he never had the heart to fight for food, especially with someone who was just like him. But know that he was here he looked and he looked hard, trying to peer through the darkening gloom at the faces lurking in the corners.

He felt a slight pressure at his pockets, Zoro sighed. "You won't find anything in there kid."

The small hand emerged with a fistful of fluff. The child stared at it in dismay. "No money sir?" She looked up with large brown eyes.

Zoro pulled out both his pockets for the child to see. "Nothing."

"Not a cent?"

"If I did, I would have spent it," Zoro replied truthfully.

"You live like me? On street?" She asked, pointing to a cardboard cubby hole.

"Yeah, I do kid."

She shrugged. "Then have nothing worth stealing," she raced away into the darkness.

Zoro scratched his head, feeling the dirt that had settled there and then looked at his hands streaked with grime. He did have nothing.

Above came a drum roll of thunder and violet clouds accumulated. Zoro looked up at the sky; his face catching the patter of pale raindrops. With a new vigour, Zoro turned himself around and walked back to Sanji's.

Sanji heard the door open and the floorboards grunt. He looked up from the newspaper, seated at the table in the kitchen as Zoro walked in. "What took you so long?"

"None of your business," he snapped, taking his seat and grabbing his bowl of cooling soup.

Sanji shrugged and folded the newspaper in half. "As bargained Zoro you will help me find a job, we start tomorrow."

Cheeks round with soup, Zoro nodded.

"And go have a shower," Sanji moaned. "Is it raining outside? Because you like some mangy dog."

After his cold soup, Zoro squeezed himself into the narrow shower and, scalding his back; he finally got the temperamental grey water to the right temperature. He spied a scrubbing brush hanging innocently on the taps, taking it up, he began to clean himself. Zoro stepped out feeling cleaner then he had for an awfully long time. Sanji charged in and passed to Zoro a pile of clothing before spotting the state of his bathroom. He gave an impressive speech on hygiene.

Zoro passed Sanji the scrubbing brush. "Here."

Sanji held it as far from his body as possible, the once white end had become black. Timidly, he sniffed it, almost retched and tossed it into the bin along with the toaster.

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**A/N: MY BLOODY INTERNET STUFFED UP! I'm sure everyone knows what it's like to go onto the computer and be unable to get onto the internet! It's HELL! I couldn't get on FanFiction or ANYTHING! -sob- It was terrible! TERRIBLE!**

**Okay okay, Anyways I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please Read & Review!**


	4. Telephone call

Some people flinch at the ring of a phone,

when on the end are people unknown;

Others jump and pick it up in joyce,

for on the end a familiar voice!

- Zagiri Despina -

The golden morning light filtered through the moth-eaten curtains, creating an arrangement of light and dark on the tattered quilt; under which slept Sanji. Dust particles floated and scattered every time the blonde man stirred in his sleep. The last drops of rain ran down the cracked glass like tears, before being swallowed by the wood and the white ants that dwelled in the pane.

Sanji opened his eyes to Beethoven's 'Symphony 5, movement 1' which filtered through his pillow and continued to play into his ears. Its mechanical tones were annoying for six o'clock in the morning.

Throwing away the pillow he had stuffed over his face, Sanji looked around and felt movement down the opposite end, near where his feet touched the browning wallpaper, and a tanned face with green hair looked up.

"Is that a phone?" Zoro asked.

With a start, Sanji pulled the sheets over the bed and with a cry hit the ground. The apartment walls rattled dangerously and dust rained down from the ceiling.

"_What are you doing in my bed?_" Sanji shouted, jumping to his feet and clutching the sheets to his chest, glaring at Zoro in a sinister way.

Zoro's sleepy eyes widened. "Who's bed?"

"_My bed!_" The blonde, clothed in flannel pyjamas decorated with fading patterns of fruit, picked up the mattress and heaved it vertical so that Zoro, screaming now that he knew where he was, hit the opposite wall with a crash.

And still Beethoven continued.

Sanji lowered his mattress and observed the gaping hole through which Zoro had rolled and now laid unconscious in the narrow hallway. "Get lost, Seaweed-stink, while I get the phone," he walked out into the hall, jumping over Zoro's body.

Sanji dashed into the kitchen and swiped up the phone, smashing it painfully to his ear – he hadn't woken to a good day. "Hi, what do you want?" He waited for a reply as Zoro, now conscious, stumbled into the bathroom.

"Sanji?" A juvenile voice echoed from the other end. "Hi Sanji! Had to ring you up to say…" The voice gasped loudly into the receiver along with much choking and wheezing, until, by the sounds, the phone changed hands.

"_Why aren't you at the bloody wedding?_"

Sanji almost dropped the phone at the harsh female voice. "Nami? What wedding?" He heard another clicking noise that suggested another phone had been picked up. "Is that you Luffy?"

"Sanji, you're not at the wedding!" Luffy cried, his voice distorted by background noise.

"Get off the other end idiot!" Nami hissed.

Sanji looked at the peeling wallpaper. "Nami, my sweet, what wedding?"

"I've been trying to ring since Tuesday last week! And I must've sent you at least a dozen invitations," she replied, sounding annoyed. "Didn't you at least get one?"

The blonde man felt his face redden; he hadn't been to the mailbox for ages because he believed that if he ignored the letters cramming the rotting box then he wouldn't have to pay the bills that kept coming through. And there was always the hope someone would steal it or use it for toilet paper.

From the bathroom came a 'flush', the door opened and Zoro squeezed himself out. He travelled across the kitchen, stubbing his toe after two strides and sat at the table. "Who's on the phone?" he enquired.

Sanji flapped his hands to silence the green man.

"…and we're waiting for the groom to show up," continued Nami. "He's not late yet, but if he is…"

At this point Sanji had to interrupt her and asked: "Who's getting married?"

"Usopp!" Luffy crowed from the where the wedding was being held. "Usopp and Kaya!"

Sanji dropped the phone and stared, wide mouthed, at Zoro.

"What is it?"

The blonde man found moving an impossible task; consequently Zoro swooped up the fallen phone.

"…hello? Sanji? Nami, I think we just killed him!"

"Shut-up Luffy…hang on, I can hear someone breathing."

Indeed, Zoro had to slow his rapid panting at hearing his two long lost friends on the other end. He cracked a lopsided grin and said, "God, you two sound ancient."

There came a stunned silence and Zoro could imagine their shocked faces as they registered his voice. It was Nami who spoke first.

"_Ancient!!_" She cried, making Zoro hold the phone at arm's length. "That's a bit rich coming from you…you walking steroid machine. _You_ sound so old you've probably run out of testosterone, your voice sounds like a five year old."

"Testosterone?" Luffy questioned innocently. "Am _I_ running out of it?"

"No Luffy, you never had it…ah! The groom's here. A minute late, could've been worse. I'm going now to help…go drop dead Zoro. Tell Sanji I'm never going to invite him to another wedding."

"If it's yours," Zoro replied nonchalantly, "then he probably won't bother showing up."

The phone was slammed down. Zoro could here Luffy trying to call her back, he failed to do so.

"Anyways Zoro," Luffy chirped, "I haven't heard from you in years! Sanji told me last week he found your body on the side of the road. Though it sounded convincing, I didn't believe it for one second!"

Zoro glared at Sanji's statue and asked, "You're at a wedding?"

Luffy explained. "But Nami's so strict; you know the National Army is actually guarding the cake! I can't even see it! And they've got guns and they won't stop looking at me."

The green man laughed.

Luffy's voice dropped in tone, sounding sad and forgotten. "Zoro," he asked, "how come you never came to Usopp's wedding?"

"I didn't know – besides, I don't have a car."

"I could've come down and picked you up!"

Zoro picked guiltily at the brown wallpaper as Luffy, who sounded hopeful, happy and concerned, told him about where he lived.

It was a three hours drive from the city, he said, forcing Zoro to use his unexorcised imagination. His house wasn't anything fancy, low-set, made of brown-red bricks with a veranda out the front. The window panes where painted white, a brick chimney sat in the roof's centre along with a satellite-looking dish that he can't understand its existence. There were pot plants lined along his paved pathway, and rose bushes crept along the south-facing side of his cottage home; and when the roses bloomed, Luffy explained, he would gather a whole heap and give them to Nami, who frankly lived not a minute's walk down the road. He explained the water feature in his backyard and the goldfish that swim in it, and how when it gets cold he goes out with a net and fishes them out, he then eats them and buys more later on.

When Zoro asked how Luffy managed his garden, because surely anything under his care shrivelled and died, Luffy told his friend about the strange man who mows his lawn and prunes the roses, pulls out the weeds and never forgets to feed the fish.

Just as he was about to talk about his day job, music started up in the background.

"I've got to go, Zoro!" Luffy finished hurriedly. "Nami's going mad!"

Faint shouting drifted into Zoro's ear. "Well, see ya Luffy," said Zoro.

"Zoro! Zoro! Zoro!" Luffy rushed. "Don't forget to call, okay? Call me; I want to hear from you sometime. I can't remember my number," he babbled quickly, "so I'll ring up with Nami's mobile, alright? Anyways, I've got to go. Bye Zoro."

"Hey Luffy!" Zoro quickly added. "Don't go letting that Nami boss you around."

"No, no. She's only like this because of the wedding…yeah, I'm coming…See ya!"

Zoro heard the phone go dead and the empty ringing in his head, slowly he placed the phone back on its hook and turned to Sanji.

"You can move now, dart-brow," he pushed Sanji and the man teetered sideways and clattered to the ground, stone shocked.

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**Giri : Hi, I want to thank everyone who's reviewed, it's fun reading your comments and I'm glad you're all enjoying this story. Also, this story has been written on some true facts and I feel terrible writing about Sanji & Zoro as low-lows, but trust me, it'll get better - maybe...hmm...**

**Reviews please! Until chapter five...!**

**Oni Giri Slash**

**OH! Can someone PLEASE tell me what AU means?? Thanks ;)**


	5. It's genes

**"The challenge for couples is to turn 'I Do' into 'We Can'."**  
- **Scott Stanley -**  
**  
**

"I never knew Usopp had marriage qualities," said Sanji.

Zoro couldn't care less about marriage quality. Marriage was beyond him – who would want to dedicate their entire lives living with someone else?

Zoro's boots slapped against the drying pavement, making a bad habit of jumping heavily into puddles made by last night's rain. The rain had cleaned the desolated city and the sun had been polished, giving off a warm golden glow. There wasn't a cloud in the sky. Sanji was too concentrated in talking, ignoring the fact his trousers were becoming more and more saturated with every one of the tanned man's leaps into the sidewalk. He rubbed the stiff stubble of hair on his chin and turned to Zoro.

"What's that?" He pointed sharply at Zoro's face.

Zoro rubbed the part of his jaw the blonde man had indicated. "A beard."

"Don't grow one," Sanji warned. "It looks like you're carrying some virus that makes your face green." He shoved his hands into his pockets and searched around for a cigarette. "Why don't you dye your hair or something?"

Zoro growled inwardly. "Because, idiot, I don't have any money."

"Tsk tsk, no need to get snappy," he muttered, finding something vaguely cylindrical and pulling it out triumphantly – half a cigarette. He straightened it and lifted it to his lips, searching now for a lighter.

"I'm not snappy," snapped Zoro, pausing at the traffic lights. "Anyway, what's wrong with my beard?"

"Beard?" Sanji snorted. "They're more like weeds in an empty garden," he replied, lighting the cancer stick and taking a suck.

The walk man flashed green and the two, along with others, progressed across the road.

"Empty garden?" Zoro repeated ironically. "You've had those three strands of hair on that chin since, oh, I don't know," he mocked, "primary."

"_Primary!?_"

"And your eyebrow, git. Did you draw it on, or did something decide to curl up and die on your face?"

The two had stopped in the road's center.

Sanji glared at the slightly shorter Zoro. "This," he snarled and jabbed at his visible brow, "is natural."

Oblivious to the furious honking that was happening around them, Zoro growled: "And my hair is naturally green."

"You said that in high school."

"And I'm saying it now, shit-head."

"How can some normal person have green hair?"

"I don't bloody care! You're the one that went to university, you tell me."

"Well, you should have completed grade ten, Marimo, instead of fruitlessly floating around."

Neither knew of the police car that had parked not ten feet away from the argument.

"_So the hell what_," Zoro shouted, spraying spit into Sanji's face, "_if I didn't complete grade ten_. To think that someone like you, who had _plenty of education_ and who spent _plenty of money_ on himself in his youth could end up being a filth covered, gruel eating, louse infested blonde snob who can't get over the fact that he is shit poor…"

A police man stepped out of the parked car, talking into his radio.

"…and he goes off dreaming about getting married and having kids? Like hell Sanji, because no-one will hang around a snob-arse like you…not even that orange witch Nami and you know what? I don't bloody blame her."

He was practically eyeball to eyeball with his rival.

"And another thing," Zoro added darkly. "There's a major difference between you and me."

"And what's that, exactly?" Sanji hissed.

Zoro stressed every word. "_I – am – happy_."

As he watched, the fire is Sanji's eyes wavered and a voice clearing itself reached his ears. He turned to look at the cop standing behind him.

"Hrm hrm," the policeman grumbled from beneath his moustache. "If you could be so kind as to removing yourselves off the road and letting the traffic through."

Zoro stared at the policeman, who almost shriveled under the intensity of the glare, and crossed the road.

Sanji wiped his face from Zoro's spit and turned to the policeman. "I'm terribly sorry sergeant. We got…err…carried away."

The policeman grunted. "Just do it somewhere else young man, not on a road or we'll have to fine you next time."

Sanji nodded and hurriedly crossed, allowing the anxious drivers to rush to their well paid jobs.

The two men walked side-by-side, not talking, charging their way head long through the crowding pathways. Brown sparrows athletically avoided falling footsteps as they dashed in and out of legs in search of fallen food.

Sanji gave one last inhale of his cigarette, before flicking it to the ground. "Ah, Marimo?" he muttered.

Zoro cursed every god he knew and turned to look at Sanji. "What?"

"It's genes."

Zoro raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Genes? Duh, it would have to be. Anyway," he said, ignoring Sanji's annoyed face and looked up the road, "I am so _hungry_ – and you can't draw swirls to save your life."

Sanji growled and grabbed the green man's collar and pulled him into the Social Security Building.

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**Giri : Unlike Zoro, I endeavour to complete grade 10 this year! -punches air in determination- heh heh heh...**

**Hrm...HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS CHAPTER! I know it's short but I'll put another on soon! In the mean time REVIEWS! PLEASE!  
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	6. Be hippy

**"The landlord say your rent is late  
He may have to litigate,  
Don't worry, be happy  
Don't worry, be happy"**

**- Bob Marley - _Don't Worry, Be Happy_**** - **

Sanji and Zoro stepped over the threshold into a small room and walked up to the blonde woman working behind a sheet of glass. Sanji leaned casually against the counter and gave her his charming Cheshire grin.

"Ah!" he swooned, "my sweet! You are like the lone star in a sky of darkness, your shining rays reach for me, my love, and I have come to answer the call and fill your heart with adore. I will climb the highest mountain to pull you down from the heavens and together we shall traverse the world with you in my…"

Zoro physically pushed Sanji aside, who stumbled into the opposite wall falling into a state of love-sick unconsciousness. Zoro pressed his face against the glass and growled: "He needs money, he needs a job and he needs a life. What have you got?"

The receptionist delicately wiped the stray bangs from her face and turned to her computer, her long fingers rapidly pressed the letters of her keyboard. "We deal with his type all the time," she explained to Zoro, turning the LCD monitor around for him to see. "As you can see there haven't been many jobs available for people, actually, more people are loosing jobs."

Zoro frowned, making no sense of the graphs that decorated the screen. "Really?" The news sounded bad. "What jobs are there?"

"Well," she typed a few more keys and the screen changed. "It depends on what he's qualified to do."

Zoro rubbed his furrow; trying to remember what is was Sanji did. "Um, he's a chef."

The receptionist looked at the man dully. "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, and he went to University."

The woman behind the glass sighed. "They're usually hard to find a job for."

Zoro felt his whole being fall through the floor – how long was it going to take to find dart-brow a bloody job. "How come they're hard?"

"They're over educated," she said, turning the monitor back to face her. "But you can take your friend, Mr. Sanji I presume, into the next room and he can wait to his counsellor."

Zoro nodded. "Right, thanks miss." He picked up Sanji laying love stricken on the floor, by the shirt and dragged him through to the next room. Once the blonde lost sight of the woman he became aware of his eerie surroundings.

A least sixty people crammed the room, leaning on the pale yellow walls, each face looking solemn, unshaven, drunk, and sick; those who were singing old sixties songs in the corner were definitely on something.

Sanji felt his throat tighten and his heart pulsate painfully behind his ribs – he didn't want to be like this and things were getting worse. "Zoro," he muttered, as the two men took their seat at the end of the mass line up. "I don't want to be here."

"Tough," he grumbled back, "the receptionist said you have to see someone."

"I know, I know," Sanji whispered fiercely, "but why are there so many people?"

"There aren't many jobs, dart-bow."

"Shut the hell up Marimo," Sanji growled quietly, he glared dangerously as a group of giggling hippies' swaggered pass.

"Whoa, like, dude," one cried, breaking away from his group and stumbling over to Sanji. "Bro!" He threw wide his bangle covered arms, revealing the 'I love everyone' logo printed on his multi coloured shirt. "I haven't seen you since, like, University man!"

Zoro gazed at the figure, from the greying dread locks draping his bizarre head, to the smiley patterned sneakers on his tiny feet; love-heart shaped glasses framed his eyes. He leaned Sanji's way and whispered: "Do you know this guy?"

"Nope," Sanji said loudly. "I've never seen him in my life."

"Aw man, don't you remember?" The hippy insisted. "It's me dude, Jango!"

"Oh," Sanji could feel the memories creeping back to the front lobe of his brain. "Jango, yeah, wow," he struggled to identify precisely the man behind all the colours and layers of baggy clothing. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't talk to him," Zoro muttered harshly under his breath, "he risks your chances of getting a job."

"Sanji, brother, I'm here for a job dude!" The hippy said.

Zoro groaned and slapped his forehead.

"It's really hard see, because, people can't see my gifts and full potential, and it's like they're looking at me from the distance. And I'm all like, look at me close up man and see the talent!" He gave Sanji a white toothed smile. "Can you like, see the talent man?"

"I'm seeing something," Zoro retorted viciously, "but I don't think its talent."

Sanji elbowed his green companion in the ribs; Zoro turned to picking the fabric from the seat he was sitting on.

"Green dude," the man moved his hands around the air in front of Zoro. "I can feel all the anger, you know, radiating from your tense body. You have, like, a rotten aura about you. I hope I didn't insult you man, but it's really, like, bad. Maybe a hug –"

Zoro growled deep from within his throat. "Touch me hippy-freak and you will die painfully."

"Okay dude, I can see that you need to work things out in that little mind of yours – but the love is always with you man!"

Zoro watched dully as Sanji conversed with his old University friend. After ten long minutes he heard the man by the door call out 'next'. Zoro clasped Sanji around his skinny neck and dragged him off.

"Hope you get a job, dude!" Jango called cheerfully. "Remember," he raised his hands, his fingers indicating the 'peace' sign. "Peace and love man!"

Zoro slapped Sanji's hand as he made to mimic the hand sign. "Do you want a frigging job or not, blonde-git?"

Sanji twisted himself out of Zoro's grasp. "Shut-up Marimo."

"Why? That hippy thing was an idiot!"

"That _hippy thing _is the bloody counsellor's son!"

Zoro froze at the door, his hand out stretched and resting on the brass doorknob. "What?"

Sanji pushed passed him. "It's called knowing the people in the right places, snot-face." He opened the door and stepped into the room.

* * *

**Giri: Hi everyone, thanks for all your reviews, I'm really glad your all enjoying this story! I'm going to answer some questions...yeah...hrm hrm:**

**Firstly, Luffy won't be in this story, or Nami for that matter, there's going to be a sequel to this story and they'll be in the next story BIG TIME! Heh heh heh...or maybe in the last chapter.  
**

**Luffy doesn't get married!  
**

**Luffy has a big heart - a really big heart! - and one would think why he doesn't go help his friends. Well, Sanji and Zoro would never ask for help because for those two, it's a matter of pride - and they wouldn't want to put their problems on Luffy's shoulders anyway.**

**Okay, I can't think of anymore! Ja ne! REVIEWS!**

**If you like this story you might like to read 'She, Captain Nami' which I am working on too!  
**


	7. Poetic misery

**"Somebody should tell us, right at the start of our lives, that we are dying.  
Then we might live life to the limit, every minute of every day.  
Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now!" **

**- Michael Landon -**

The sun was high and the shadows cast on the pavement were almost non-existent. The rain water had evaporated; the sparrows were resting in whatever shade they could find at the local city park. The park, placed directly in the city's center provided homes for approximately four-hundred trees, a pond, grass and numerous park benches – on which sat two men, one jobless and one homeless.

Sanji sat; bent in half, face in his hands, staring dismally at the edge of the pond. His fair hair blowed gently in the breeze, his poetic misery had attracted several artists who had stationed their easels to paint him in all his glory.

Zoro gazed unseeingly into the pond; at the brown ducks dunking their heads into the water and seizing the pieces of bread thrown to them by the surrounding families. He reached down and picked up a pebble, rubbing off the dirt with a finger and a thumb, he spat on it and the stone's colours became more vibrant. Finally, he held it up to the sun.

"Don't move!" An artist called out, eagerly sketching Zoro's pose.

Sanji rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and murmured in annoyance, "What are you doing, Zoro?"

"Nothing," he threw the stone into the water, scattering the ducks, "just waiting for a low-life love-cook to snap out of his depression."

Sanji snorted. "I've been here for five hours; you must possess a unique patience."

"I've waited longer," Zoro said bluntly. "Besides, I've been asleep for most of the time." He stretched and stood up with a grunt. "I'm going to go off for a while, I won't be long. Will you be alright here, on your own?"

Sanji grumbled into his fists: "Of course."

"You're not going to jump into the pond and commit suicide, are you?"

The blonde man chuckled as Zoro turned on his heel and walked away.

Sanji felt his spine groan as he morphed from his position of misery to properly sit upright, straightening the hair over his covered eye as he did so. He watched as the pleased artists packed up their easels and paints and walked away, in search of another person to paint. Sanji tenderly rotated his shoulders, his eye gazing with wonder at the happy families feeding the ducks. He was about to enter a day dream when something warm was thrust under his nose.

"Hotdogs," Zoro declared proudly as Sanji took his offer. Zoro sat happily on the bench beside him, a hotdog in both hands and another in his lap.

Sanji took a slow bite. "You didn't steal these, did you?"

"No," Zoro mumbled behind his filled cheeks. "I know the…" he swallowed. "I know the hotdog man. He gives me these for free."

"Why does he do that?"

Zoro dived into the hotdog held in his left hand and carelessly explained: "Because I saved his kid from being hit by a truck on the highway."

"Really? Who would have thought you had the heart to do that." Sanji said.

Zoro shrugged and launched himself at the remaining hotdog.

It was much later in the afternoon that Sanji stared up the silent, pleasant street, lined with neat little houses, with neat little cars parked outside, in view of the neat little windows. He pranced up to the first house on the block, bounced up the concrete stairs only to hesitate at the mahogany door. He pulled nervously on his collar and glanced back at the bush – which gave him a glare. Swallowing, he knocked.

A middle aged woman, with crimson hair opened the door a crack. "Hello?"

"Hello," Sanji slurred, fighting his womanizing instincts, "do you have a job that –!"

The door had slammed shut. Feeling undefeated, Sanji knocked again, again the door opened.

"Hello madam." The blonde man swooned, "do you have a job that I can attend to? Or maybe," he leaned flirtingly against the door, "you would like me to do something _more_?"

The woman shouted and slammed the door shut; Sanji lurched backwards before he lost the end of his pale nose. He looked back at the bush – which rolled its eyes. Sanji had similar results from the next several houses.

"Let me show you how to do it, idiot," Zoro snapped. Stepping out of his hiding place he shoved Sanji aside and impatiently knocked on the door of another house.

A teenager, with long blonde hair and innocent blue eyes opened the door wide. She squealed: "Oh my god, girls! There's a super hot bodybuilder on our doorstep!"

Despite Zoro's desperate attempt to escape, a hundred or more feminine hands grabbed him in various places and pulled him inside the house. Sanji watched the door close with a crooked grin and feeling a touch of envy; he sat down on the steps and began the long process of waiting for Zoro.

Whilst he waited, he painfully replayed in his mind the morning's meeting.

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**Giri: Hope you enjoyed it! REVIEW! **


	8. Green chaos

**"Whatever you may be sure of, be sure of this, that you are dreadfully like other people."**

**- James Russell Lowell -  
**

The councilor interlocked his fingers and watched as a tall, pale blonde man, with a curly eyebrow and one revealing eye sat down in one of the two empty seats stationed in front of his desk – he knew this client as Sanji. Behind him came another, unknown man, reasonably tall, well built and tanned, had a lack of flare when compared to the blonde one, but his green hair was intriguing. Kirk Jango 'senior' knew not of the limits people went to gain recognition.

The green man's dark eyes glared into his as he sat down.

Kirk cleared his throat. "Good morning gentlemen –"

The green man snorted loudly, his brown face had compressed inwards to keep himself from laughing – after a moment he composed himself and sat down.

"Is there something funny you would like to share, Mr…?"

"Roronoa Zoro," the man grunted, pressing his lips tightly together.

"Mr. Roronoa?" Kirk asked unemotionally.

Zoro shook his head furiously and fell silent.

"Anyway, Mr. Sanji, I hear…" the counsellor sighed and turned to the man twisting impatiently in his chair. "Yes, Mr. Roronoa?"

"I'm sorry," said Zoro, his voice shaking. "It's your voice; it's so high and squeaky!"

Sanji's face darkened at Zoro's words. "Will you keep your mouth shut? I'm sorry Mr. Jango; he's just being a _twit_!" He glared at the man he was indicating before turning back to the table.

Trying not to look offended, Kirk continued: "As you may have heard, there haven't been many available jobs for anyone. A lot of people are suffering as a result of it. However, fortunately, we actually have a new program…" Kirk's gaze shifted.

Sanji turned in his seat and followed the councilor's gape – his mouth dropped. He watched as Zoro tinkered furiously around with the water dispenser. "Marimo," he hissed, "what are you doing?"

Frustrated, Zoro wrenched the tap off and the water flowed freely to drench the crimson carpet.

Sanji gaped. "_What the hell did you do that for, Rat-Piss?_"

Zoro looked up, his hands dripping with the expensive spring water from the Alps, and stated, "I was thirsty."

Kirk felt his face flush slightly as the last of the Alp water saturated his office floor; he hastily clasped his hands together. "It's all right, Mr. Ro-Ro-ronoa, I'll get someone to clean it up later. Please, just sit there quietly. Where was I…?"

Sanji silently ran his finger across his neck and turned to face the man behind his silky oak desk. "You mentioned a program."

"Ah, yes! You see Mr. Sanji; you can work for less than an hour a week and still be recognised as employed."

"Really?" Sanji said, trying with all his worth to sound interested.

"Really!" Squeaked the councilor, reaching with one hand to the draw located beneath his desk. "All I need is…_EEK!_" The councilor gave a high pitched scream as a loud crash shook the office.

Sanji stared at dismay and instantly registered what had happened. Zoro had been rocking on the two back legs of his chair, lost his balance, fallen backwards and smashed a hole in the office wall and as a result, Zoro's rear end had found its way into the room next door.

The tan man pulled his pinkie-finger from his nostril with an audible 'pop' and cocked his head to one side. "What?"

"_Marimo…_" Sanji growled deeply, vibrating the surrounding occupants' ribs.

Mumbling something, Zoro pulled him and his chair out of the hole and sat back down, motionless, and looking his most innocent.

Legs twitching, the blonde turned back to Kirk. "Need what, exactly?"

The councilor's mouth opened once, twice, the third time he managed to speak. "Err…I need you to sign these forms, Mr. Sanji. We can give you work straight away." He passed a pile of papers and pen across the desk, accompanied by a face full with expectation.

A frown appeared on Zoro's face as he watched Sanji take up the pen, whose were eyes scanning the words on the pages. Zoro examined the surrounding cream office walls in search of another devastating distraction – bare, empty walls but for one small window, where even the natural light found hard to penetrate the sheet of glass and flood into the naked room. His head lolled backwards and his dark eyes located the source of light emitting from an expensive looking miniature chandelier. Fingering his way into the depths of his boots, Zoro felt for a stone.

Sanji could feel Kirk's hot, sticky breath on his hand, his beady eyes waiting in what seemed to be impatience for the signature to appear from the pen's nib. Sanji's hand was about to make the motion for his signature when a whistling sound came from behind him. A moment later, he was showered with glass.

Sanji stormed out of the security building, sucking heavily on a long cigarette that Jango had secretly given to him.

Zoro followed after him, he inhaled the smoke which had previously entered Sanji's own lungs and felt a wave of dizziness. He coughed, "What is that shit you're breathing?"

The blonde ignored him and ploughed his body across the three lane road, regardless of the cars which swerved sharply to avoid him. Zoro weaved his way around them, glaring at those sticking their heads out and swearing. He followed the chef to the city park, where whatever had entered Sanji's lungs was coming into effect.

"What the hell are you doing here, bastard?" Sanji slurred, holding his forehead – he gave a high pitched giggle and exclaimed: "I feel so much better! You have to try this stuff, Piss-head!" He held out the dying cigarette in a flimsy hand.

Zoro snatched it up, placed the butt between his teeth and he inhaled deeply. He held the smoke in his lungs, tasting it, feeling the odd effect it was having on his body – he wasn't a smoker. He exhaled through his nose in thought. With a grunt Zoro threw the cigarette on the ground and frantically twisted into the grass, "_You're freaking mad to take something like that! Jesus, it had every bloody chemical under the sun in it!_"

Sanji leaned over and groaned. "Ugh, I believe you." He hiccupped, his face splitting with a grin. "Marimo, we should go on drugs!"

"Tried that," Zoro said, disturbed by Sanji's rapid changes in attitude. "It didn't work."

The blonde man laughed like a hyena. "When I'm sane, I'll ask what you mean by that!" He strolled over the grass, the only grass known to grow in the city, to the pond – the only pond.

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**Giri: YOSH! I updated! Sorry it took so long. I've been very busy studying for exams. Please...**

**!!REVIEW!!  
**

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	9. Turning point

**"The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be."  
****- Paul Valery - **

"I don't know," Sanji mumbled forlornly to his palms. He sighed; his body was exhausted, pushed to its emotional limits and fatigued as a result. He also felt mentally drained and Zoro wasn't making the situation any better, if not worse – he was now stressed.

After an hour of waiting the door behind him groaned reluctantly, as though two forces were beside themselves as to whether it opened or not. One force was stronger; the door flew open and smashed loudly against the wall, causing the glass set in its middle to crack. Zoro ripped himself free from many teenage hands and flew down the steps, his face set with grim determination as he stormed down the street, ignoring the disappointed women he had left behind. Sanji went after him.

Three blocks of frantic running deemed far enough from the threat as Zoro slowed his pace; he put his arms above his head, panting.

Sanji faced the back of his loaned shirt. "Can't have been that bad, Marimo – just a few teens? Anyway, let's look." He made to step around Zoro's broadness.

"Get lost, dart-brow!" Zoro snapped, blocking the chef's view and wrapping his face with his arms.

Sanji tried to peel away the tanned man's limbs. "Come on, Marimo, let's…holy shit!" Sanji stepped back – his rival's face was littered with multi-coloured lipstick, colourful storms covered his lips and his cheeks, and his hair was on end. "God…" Sanji looked closer.

Zoro was rolling his eyes, murmuring something undecipherable under his breath.

The blonde man stepped back with a grin. "So, Rat-piss, which one was your favourite?"

The green man pointed to his face. "I like this green one – wait!" He glared at Sanji. "That was a trick question wasn't it?"

Sanji shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "If you say so, moron." He made his way back down the street.

"You dirty minded arsehole!" Zoro snapped, trudging after Sanji. "That's all you think about!"

"Anything could've happened in an hour, Marimo."

"_You dart-browed lunatic!_"

"Shut-up Zoro, we all know the truth!" Sanji called from down the street.

"_Truth? What frigging truth_?"

"Admit it!" The blonde twirled and disappeared around the next corner.

"_I'm not going to admit it, god damn it!_"

So it continued, until the sun edged itself between the city haze, creating romantic illusions of pinks and purples, dark towers peaked to the sky above, eclipsing the streets and causing a premature darkness to fall. Sanji noted his dark street with gloom and ascended the few secure stairs to his apartment, the green man not far behind him.

Zoro sensed Sanji's weariness and closed the door quietly behind him which resulted in a crack – he hid the freed doorknob behind his back before siding down the hall. He found the blonde man in the kitchen, sprawled on his only table, his head resting in his arms, asleep.

"Bad for your back you know, git," Zoro muttered as he went to the sink, pulling from the cupboard a bottle of dishwashing detergent.

The chef failed to answer.

Shrugging, Zoro turned the tap on and waited for the water to flow forth. Nothing. The pipes beneath the sink were sighing. The man turned the tap off in thought and crossed the small kitchen clapping the sleeping man on the shoulder: "It'll get better tomorrow," he muttered.

Overhead, the kitchen light blinked out and the green man found himself standing in complete darkness.

Sadly, no days, as bright as the sun may shine, were as dark as those that followed. Whatever money Sanji was capable of earning was spent on tin food. Electricity and water had been cut off and the rent was sky high. In the second week of their impoverished state, Zoro found himself in bed all day while the blonde chef went out, too bored to do anything but stare at the Picasso designs in the cracked ceiling – and on the odd occasion he brought up a bucket of water.

Sanji pushed the door open: "Back," he called, to no-one in particular. Dragging himself to his bedroom, Sanji looked at Zoro gazing at the ceiling, just as he had left him that morning. "What are you doing?" he said, kicking his shoes under his bed, as there was no room anywhere else.

"Thinking."

"Since we're both going crazy," the chef replied, "I won't tease you about it. Thinking about what?"

"Food…I'm hungry," the man mumbled, never breaking his gaze.

"Can't you feed yourself?" Sanji grumbled.

"I can't work the bloody hand-operated can opener."

Sanji went to the kitchen and blindly searched for the can opener in the dark cutlery draw. "It's like looking after a brat-kid," he reached for a tin of baked beans and began to open the tin lid. Its edge was rough and dented; Marimo must have been at it earlier. He poured the cold beans into two bowls.

"Move," said Sanji and Zoro shuffled over. He passed his rival his share.

Sanji leaned back against the wall with a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. He frowned for a moment, before saying: "Looks like the Mona Lisa."

Zoro swallowed loudly. "You sure? Looks to me like Nami."

The man dodged sharply, laughing, as Sanji heaved a punch.

"Shit Sanji! Face it!" Zoro insisted. "It frigging does look like her," he avoided Sanji's bowl of baked-beans as it plummeted past his ear, smashing a hole in the opposite wall.

Sanji glared at the newest damage, his face reddened. "_Damn it Marimo! Why is it that ever since you stepped into my home everything has been breaking down?_"

"I don't know," the green man retorted. "A decent wall wouldn't break like that anyway."

The blonde growled.

"You're right," Zoro sighed, trying to sound apologetic, "it looks like Bon Clay."

Sanji snorted. "You still remember him?"

"Faintly," he admitted. "Didn't he have bright orange hair?"

The chef rolled his eyes. "No, it was black." He watched Zoro crack a lopsided grin and comprehension dawned on Sanji's face. "_You bastard!_"

His rival sped out of the room, smashing and breaking something down the narrow hall. His cocky laugh shook the walls. Sanji fumed and slid beneath his bed sheets, cursing, swearing every offence he knew. Halfway between a particularly good swear he fell to sleep, dreaming of the Mona Lisa, Nami and Bon Clay.

Zoro leaned against the frame of the door and watched Sanji fall into a light sleep, his weird dreams playing with the muscles in his face. Zoro didn't want to know what they were. With a sigh, he turned to the dark and narrow hall and entered the kitchen.

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**Giri: Okay. I've had a lot of you guys saying how awful it is that our two favourite men are suffering like this - well, this is the turning point, from hence forth things will be getting better for The Broke Blokes! YAY!**

**About last chapter:**

**Yes, Zoro is a complete twit for ruining Sanji's chances to get a job. There are reasons for the way he behaved - that will be revealed in the next chapter...MWAHAHAHAA!**

**As I said before their life will get better, but not in the way I think everyone's expecting. I mean, they're not about to win the lotto or anything. lol.**

**Thanks Rae for you review - I will try to improve the transitions after this chapter!**

**and THANKS for EVERYONE'S review - this story wouldn't be without you guys!**

**-Giri  
**


	10. Rope's end

**"Four a.m.  
We ran a miracle mile  
We're flat broke  
But hey we do it in style"**

******- New Radicals - You Get What You Give -**

One more time, Sanji thought to himself, rising from his bed like the dead and looking out the cracked window. It was a fair enough day, the morning sun filtered through the lightly gathered clouds. The distant industries had plumes of smoke billowing from their funnel-shaped chimneys. Dark soot was slowly floating to the ground, creating a type of black snow.

Getting down on his knees, Sanji searched beneath his bed for a clean shirt and replaced the one he had been wearing for the past two days.

"Marimo?" He called, stepping out into the hall and entering the kitchen. "Oi," he snapped, catching the green man in the attempt of using the can opener. "You're not supposed to eat."

Zoro threw away the utensil and bit down on the tin. "I know," he growled, saliva pouring down his chin. "We're just rationing ourselves on air, right?" He spat the tin's sticker onto the floor and studied the cylindrical object.

The blonde blinked, kneading his forehead in impatience. "I'm going to give this job thing one more shot."

Zoro placed the tin onto the table and looked up at the blonde. "Really?"

Somberly straightening his shirt, Sanji nodded. "Yeah."

"Well good luck with that," Zoro declared brightly, throwing himself into a chair and picking up the tin.

Sanji blinked. "You coming?"

"No."

"Sure?"

"Why? You want me to come?"

"Not really."

"Then no."

"We might get something to eat." Sanji smirked as the green man stood, suddenly eager to go. He turned and led the way. "Marimo, you're too easy," he said, stepping out on to the street.

Zoro shrugged carelessly.

It was midday when the two men finally slowed their steps. Zoro had found himself incapable of walking any further from the pastry shop.

Sanji growled as he waited impatiently for Zoro standing halfway down the street. "We don't have any frigging money, shit-head." He shoved his hands into his pockets and rejoined Zoro's side. "What is it…?" He slapped the green head so that it hit the glass window. "Will you stop thinking of food?"

Zoro had glued himself to the display window. "I'm not moving from here," he grumbled half-heartedly. He sighed: "Are you positive that you don't have any money?"

The tanned face looked at Sanji's pleadingly, hungrily and with a strange look in his eyes that said he would commit something illegal if he didn't get fed.

Sanji rolled his eyes. "Enough with the face, Marimo," he said. "Okay, I have _some_ money left," Zoro unglued himself from the window, "but it's back at my apartment."

"Yes!" Zoro punched the air triumphantly. "Food!" He power walked down the street, running down anyone who got too close.

"Shit," Sanji cursed quietly, following the head-strong marimo, "shouldn't have told him, dammit."

Zoro raced down the street, like a madman after committing an armed robbery, throwing anyone too close to him to the cement and ruthlessly standing on them. No food had turned him into a one-track-mind savage. In his brain, food equalled survival – he was a survivor.

He turned sharply and, by a miracle, found himself down the right street. He lurched forward just as his mind registered something ahead. Flashing blue lights. Zoro stopped, threw himself backwards and hid himself around the corner of a crumbling building.

"Shit," he panted – food thoughts fading rapidly from his mind. "Security." He looked over his shoulder and at the approaching chef. "Oi! Sanji!" He called, managing a charming grin. "Changed my mind, I'm not hungry after all!"

Sanji stopped. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," the man grunted.

Sanji tried to sidestep around the bulk of muscle but was quickly blocked. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing! Really Sanji, let's not…"

The blonde man jabbed Zoro in the chest. "There, you said my name twice in a row – you never do that. Something's up, spit it out."

Zoro cursed himself under his breath for his obviousness and beckoned Sanji to look around the building.

Eying the green man warningly, Sanji did so.

Two security cars were parked outside his apartment building, blue lights flashing and three large, fat security men were speaking to an elderly woman with grey-blue wiry hair. Sanji felt his heart pounding against his chest and his legs growing weak, he turned to the expressionless green man standing beside him.

"It's the landlady," Sanji choked. He stepped away from the building's corner. "Tell me Zoro; because I'm at a lost, what in the world do I do now?"

* * *

**Giri:** **Last time I said last chapter was the turning point where things got better...right? Well things haven't got worse, so I think you should be thanking me. PLEASE REVIEW!  
**


	11. Memories

"The Memory is a man's real possession...  
In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor."

- Alexander Smith -

As far back as he would let his memories go, Zoro remembered always being on the street. It had, in an odd way, become his home and his life. He had never expected to meet anyone else, not his friends and most definitely not his family – whoever they were.

But absolutely not Sanji.

The one man he had spent all his detentions at school with writing, 'What I learn in the dojo, stays in the dojo' 'Kendo is _not_ a form of torture' 'Do not fight with make-shift bamboo sticks' 'Girls have feelings' 'Zoro will not have lunch until he learns what a horrible man he'll turn out to be'.

Despite the reason he chose to live like this, Zoro didn't want anyone else to live this way. He didn't want to show them how to scavenge for food, or water, or clothing – or having to fight for the best ally because it got good scraps. And so, naturally, Zoro asked if there was anything else Sanji could do for work – anything!

Sanji sat on the lid of a dustbin and rubbed his forehead. "Well…there's always the red-light district."

Unfamiliar with the term, Zoro raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I could always become a prostitute."

Zoro felt his jaw give way. "_Don't you frigging dare!_"

Sanji stood angrily. "Dare what?" he retorted viciously. "It's not like you have any better idea, shit-face. You can't do anything!"

"Yeah?" Zoro fumed, breathing loudly through his nose. "Well, git, that's pretty low to drop to – even for my standards."

"You have no standards, you bastard," Sanji growled darkly.

"_Well you don't either you pompous twit!_"

The blonde man turned and kicked the dustbin in rage. The flimsy metal bent under the force, hit the wall with a crunch and pathetically clattered to the cement, its contents spewing out – one would almost feel sorry for it.

"That's you, Marimo. Garbage," he said slowly facing Zoro, his eye darkened by his bangs. "Absolutely nothing. You're a big, fat, stupid, frigging nothing. _Everything you have done was nothing. Your existence is worth nothing_," his hands tightened into fists. "_Ever since I've known you you've done nothing to improve your life. You were always a trouble maker, a rogue, some fifteen year old who took pleasure in making girls cry!_"

A faint smile crossed Zoro's lips as he remembered those days.

"_You haven't been through a single damn thing to make your life even the slightest bit miserable –'_

The calm expression on Zoro's face snapped. He drew back an arm and sent his clenched fist into Sanji's enraged face.

The chef was cut off in mid-sentence as a dull pain crawled through his stunned brain. The force of Zoro's assault had him on the ground. He wiped the blood from his nose and lip, before looking up at the muscle standing over him. The face Zoro gave could only have been invented by The Devil himself.

"Don't," Zoro growled dangerously, "Don't ever say things you have no idea about." He lurched himself forward.

For a fleeting moment, Sanji thought the man was about to start a brawl, instead Zoro grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him effortlessly to his feet and levelled him so that they were face to face.

"You have no idea what I have been through," he let go of the shirt and stepped back, the dull expression Zoro had always worn was once again masking the demon inside him.

Sanji wiped the spit from his face and turned away from his attacker, piecing the pieces together. "Give me an idea then, Marimo," he said humbly. He leaned back wearily on a brick wall and slowly sunk to the ground, looking older every movement he made. Failing to look up, he patted the grey cement beside him. "Sit here; tell me, I'll listen."

"Fine old man, if it's your death wish," Zoro said, taking the reserved seat and leaning against the wall. "It's not a happy story."

"They never are," Sanji muttered wearily.

Zoro frowned and stared at his brown palms, seeing the pictures moving within them. Conjuring up the memories he had so long ago forgotten. He startled himself by how quickly it all came back to him. The pictures became vivid and soon, he was retelling it as though he had stepped off the ship not five minutes ago.

* * *

A thirteen year old Luffy leaned over his shoulder and stared down at the sheet of paper in danger of burning under Zoro's deep concentration. 

"What're you doing, Zoro?" he asked, unaware of the fact he was supposed to be doing the same thing.

"Studying. What's it look like?" the fifteen year old snapped back, shrugging the annoying boy off his shoulder. "Why don't you go study some time?"

"Why? Sanji doesn't study."

Zoro looked across the library, at the blonde seated behind a pile of specially positioned books. "What's he reading?"

Luffy snorted. "The usual."

"Ah," the green teen turned back to his papers. "Luffy, I'm gonna let you in on something, okay?"

The younger boy leaned in – gossip. "Yeah?"

"You know I'm not the Nami-type, right? I don't really study that much." Zoro said quietly.

Luffy understood and nodded.

"And the only thing I'm good at it is cutting things up, right?"

Another nod.

Zoro sighed. "Don't tell anyone, but…I'm gonna leave school."

Luffy halted his head-shaking and stared at his friend who had uttered the very words he had to control his brain from thinking – and acting on. "Leaving…?"

Zoro got the feeling that he should have spoken to the guidance councilor after all. "Yeah. But hey…"

"_Holy shit!_" Luffy cried.

All around the library, heads were rising like the dead from behind books. Zoro was making hushing sounds but to no prevail.

"_Zoro's gonna leave school!_"

There was absolute silence for an odd minute, where in that time Zoro thought he was going to commit kidnap and murder.

"Great idea Marimo!" Sanji called from behind his arranged books. "I was going to give you the idea earlier but now I guess I don't have to!"

Jonny looked at Yosaku and the two stood up. "Bro, you have given us the courage to do exactly that, let's go!" the pair waved to the on-lookers as they headed out the door.

Zoro swept his gaze to Usopp – who shrugged.

Luffy broke out into a cold sweat. "Sorry, Zoro – Nami would have bought it off me anyway," he whispered.

"If I ever own a car and you're crossing the road, Luffy", Zoro snarled quietly. "Pray that there's a hospital nearby."

* * *

Sanji shifted his position, stretching out his leg in front of him. "I know all this. You left and went to work – no education whatsoever." 

Zoro snorted. "I had enough of that place anyway."

"You had enough of every place."

The green man rolled his eyes. "When I decided to be flat mates with you, Luffy, Usopp and, hell, Nami, I didn't realise what I was in for. Do you know who paid to keep that place up and running?"

Sanji clasped his hands in a love-delight. "Yes, beautiful Nami!"

"Sure she did all the finances," he said dully. "But it was my sweat that was putting the food on the table."

The blonde glared at him. "Just cut to the freaking chase."

There was a slight pause before Zoro continued. "Remember the day I left and boarded that ship, because I'd been offered a job somewhere else."

Sanji nodded. "Yeah, some oil job or something. Why?"

"I lied," stated the man flatly. "I went to war. I'm a soldier."

Sanji blinked.

* * *

Giri: Yup...sorry for the long post, its that time of year again when everything is rush rush rush. Anyway, hope you all enjoyed this chapter...its fairly obvious what the next one will be!

* * *


	12. Forgotten wars

**"Never, never, never believe any war will be smooth and easy. The statesman who yields to war fever must realize that once the signal is given, he is no longer the master of policy but the slave of unforeseeable and uncontrollable events****."**

** - Sir Winston Churchill -  
**

The backside of the broad man walking in front was a sight made worse with the searing heat and abundance of flies clinging to their exposed face. Two layers of bullet-proof vests couldn't disguise the muscles bulging from his shoulders and rupturing from his thick neck, nor could it hide his large array of weaponry which hung from his dominant figure. It was a blessing when the breeze blew strong enough to arouse the tired sand and disfigure him enough to actually see up ahead. But before too long the dust would settle, and his green and brown suit would once again burn the retinas of his subordinates.

Zoro wiped his forehead with his browning sleeve and turned to the man trudging along beside him, weighed down by his pack and by the sizzling heat. Zoro grinned, his teeth shinning through the brown mud that caked his face. "Do you want to have a bet, Ajax?" he asked.

"Hmm?" The narrow face of his blonde companion looked over at him. "A bet? Bet on what? There's nothing here that is really worth gambling over – unless you like flies."

"A bet," continued Zoro, "on who dies first – fifty dollars on Axe Morgan."

Ajax sighed. "I told you before that we are _not_ going gung-ho," he wiped his forehead, adding more dirt to his fine featured face. "This is merely civilian duty, Zoro. We go in; show the people that we've got a huge military advantage over them and that thinking of an uprise is out of the question, fire a couple of shots into the air, get media-man over there to take a few snaps," he jerked his thumb to the man carrying the camera equipment. "And then it's the next ship out of here. _No_ fighting and _no _looking for trouble."

The green soldier's eyebrows rose. "Imagine it…bastard Captain Axe Morgan killed in combat."

Ajax grinned. "And would that be friendly fire, Zoro?"

"Doubt it," Zoro replied, watching the 'Captain' strut on ahead like a bronze statue. "The way he runs ahead will probably be the death of him." He rubbed his hands in anticipation.

"Agreed," he reached over and shook Zoro's hand.

Ahead, Captain Morgan called a halt and waited impatiently for his dog subordinates to catch up. It took three minutes for the entire team of thirty to gather in the collecting dust.

"I don't understand," Zoro heard a man behind him pant. "Why couldn't we have taken the cars?"

Zoro grinned at that and semi-focused his attention onto the man he hated most.

"Well," the man barked loudly through his wide jaw. "You mutts have finally made it. When we enter the city, I want you lot to stay in single file. Those who are too chicken can stay here."

Ajax's hand shot up into the air. "I'm too chicken, sir!"

"Good man, Lieutenant, you can stand behind me," Morgan barked and turned his beady eyes onto everyone else whose red faces were looking up at him. "Cameraman, be sure to take film where we're doing good things for the poor people."

He turned and they started off, following a crumbling cement road and walking beneath towers that cowered too far into the street. It didn't take long for it to become densely populated. The civilians tended to avoid their path, but some kicked dust as they passed.

It wasn't long before Axe Morgan began his one man stunt, charging off ahead.

Ajax struggled to keep up; the straps of his backpack were cutting into his shoulders and he needed a refreshment stop, again.

It was then the crack of gun fire sounded. Zoro watched in surprise as Ajax, walking not ten steps in front of him, fell backwards. His eyes rolling in his head, blood splattered across his suit and face. He hit the ground – silent. And in front of him, Morgan Axe fell too, crushing Ajax.

Zoro blinked and consciously felt his own front. "Shit!" He leapt backwards, taking a random colleague down with him. Above their heads, gun fire had become frenzy.

Zoro raised his head enough to see. A team of thirty…and he couldn't tell who were alive. But that wasn't as bad as the civilians screaming whilst lead whistled past their ears. Many had it closer than that.

Zoro closed his ears and narrowed his vision, focusing himself into staying as low as possible to mother earth and somehow twisting himself around to reach his gun.

"What are you doing?" the man beside him hissed.

Zoro turned to look. He sweated. Trust him to save the gay man. He saddled his gun when a faint radio frequency started from the bodies of his previous captain and comrade. He turned to the man with the mascara, "Go get the radio," he panted, squaring the gun's nozzle into the dust thickening air.

"I can't get the radio!" He cried pathetically. "I'll die!"

"Clay," Zoro growled dangerously.

He whimpered, but Bon Clay did as he was told and began a frantic shuffle towards the radio. "I'm going to get these clothes stained I just know it," he muttered heatedly to himself. Though the continuous rain of bullets played on his mind so that every few seconds he thought he was hit, the overall ten step journey wasn't as bad as he had let his imagination to believe. He managed to roll the hulk of muscle off the lieutenant. He screamed when he saw Ajax's eyes looking up at him.

"_HOLY MOTHER OF GOD YOU'RE ALIVE!_"

Ajax opened his mouth and managed a high pitched exhale.

"Sorry sir, it's an emergency." Bon Clay apologised, pulling apart his suit in search of the radio.

"It's in my front pocket," Ajax muttered weakly, his eyes rolling back into his head again.

Bon Clay nervously chuckled an apology and took out the radio.

"…attck. I repeat. Captain Axe Morgan's squad are to return to base immediately. Emergency back up is needed. The base is under attack. I repeat…"

At that moment a waft of thin dust cleared his vision. Across the street a line of soldiers had began to search through the civilian casualties, their signatures a whole national country different to their own. Bon Clay looked at Ajax and then to the faint outline of the green headed man. "Hurry sir," he lent the fallen man a shoulder. "Grab on."

"_COVER FIRE!_"

In a second Zoro flicked his eyes in the direction of the shout and saw Bon Clay running towards him like a mad man, the lieutenant swinging like a carefree monkey on his back. He needed no other words of persuasion. He let rip his metallic weapon.

Bon Clay passed him and he got to his feet too, spraying bullets into the ochre dust as he turned to run. Behind him, Zoro heard the ominous sound of boots on road, he swung his gun around and aimed.

"It's me, the doctor!" The doctor came close enough for him to see. "I've got the cameraman."

"Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

Zoro almost laughed.

"I've got five children and a wife to go home to," continued the reporter. "I had better live!"

"You're blathering," snapped the doctor.

"I'm…oh my god."

Zoro could feel the blood pumping through his head; his heart had somehow clawed its way to his throat. He swallowed it back down and froze.

The heat of the tank burnt his exposed face and eyes. One by one, he felt his eyebrows melt away. And yet he couldn't see it. Only the whirring of its engine and the crunch of its caterpillar tracks on the dust would give the idea that one existed. And that was hard to hear because of the shooting happening only metres away.

Zoro backed up slowly. A pair of hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him backwards into the darkness of a crack between two buildings.

"You stand there like that, kiddo," warned the doctor, "and you'll get more holes in you then Swiss cheese – just not as small." His dark eyes turned to the pale second in command. "Ajax get up, man. You're absolutely fine."

"Unlike me," vouched the cameraman. "Shot three times. Two legs are now useless and a broken collar bone."

Zoro ignored the man attempting to earn some sort of sympathy and knelt down to Ajax. "You in there?"

"Could you do it?" He asked suddenly, his eyes wide with fear. "I didn't think something like this would happen. We had such top men with us. Our base was a stronghold – impenetrable. Look at it now, it's all collapsing and they want us to be backups? We had thirty men with us and look," he waved a weak arm about. "There are only four men and a gay guy."

Bon Clay didn't look all that impressed.

Zoro shook his head. "You know what I'm like with directions!"

"_And you know what I'm like with violence!_" Ajax cried out hysterically. "_You're going to have to lead!_"

The doctor conjured up a needle. "I'm going to give him a shot of valium."

Bon Clay flapped around a hand. "Ho ho, I don't mind if Zoro leads. I'll just follow anyway."

Zoro stood and vainly dusted the front of his camouflage outfit. "Clay, you're to be ten steps behind me at all times."

The lieutenant sighed in relief as Bon Clay loudly objected his new commander's proposal.

"I can't use a gun!" the mascara man tried to argue. "Who'll protect me?!"

"Protect yourself," Zoro grunted, hoisting his backpack higher onto his shoulders. "You've got a gun."

Bon Clay looked at his weapon in distaste. "I knew I should've become an Okama," he said to himself.

The doctor raised a thick eyebrow at him. "What's that?"

The other man grinned. "Ooooh! It's a great life!"

* * *

**Giri: There, finally, another chapter. I hope you enjoyed **


	13. AWOL

**War does not determine who is right, only who is left.**

**- Bertrand Russell -**

"When I met my third wife, gosh, she was the envy of everyone. Pretty face I tell you. Long blonde hair and she had these big blue eyes that you could just loose yourself in, y'know? Ah yes, we found each other at a conference in Canada and…"

Zoro rubbed his sweating forehead in frustration. "Can't you give him something to shut him up?" He rotated his shoulders, carrying the make-shift stretcher would have been a lot easier if the patient was either quiet, or better, if they had left the cameraman behind all together.

The doctor, holding the other end, shrugged his shoulders. "Can't do. He's had quite a lot of painkillers – I wouldn't want to overdose him."

"It has to be better than listening to him drivel like a," Zoro's head snapped around. "_I said ten bloody steps Bon Clay!_"

"I _am_ ten steps," whined the wanted-to-be okama.

"You are not," the green man retorted. "You're five steps. Get further back."

"I only take small steps!"

"I don't care, take twenty then!"

Bon Clay rolled his eyes. "It's not like I'm stalking you…"

Zoro ignored him and looked at the patient. "What'd you say?"

The cameraman was pointing with a good arm towards the rooftops. "I thought I saw someone up there. Hrm, as I was saying, we took…" The two carrying the stretcher stopped and looked in the direction that the cameraman was implying.

Zoro shielded his eyes with a red dust-stained hand, studying the broken tops of the grey buildings.

"I don't think anyone would've followed us, man," replied the doctor, nudging the stretcher forward to get Zoro moving. "It's too deserted here. No one would bother."

Zoro didn't budge; a feeling had crept up his spine – turning his blood cold and his mind numb. They were being hunted. He motioned to Bon Clay.

Happy to finally be accepted back into the group he twirled towards the leader. "Yeeeees?"

"There's someone following us," Zoro confided to him, handing him the handles to the stretcher. He watched as Bon Clay's knuckles turned white and his eyes darted to the rooftops. "Make sure everyone acts normal."

"Y-yes sir," the okama agreed nervously.

The sniper wasn't hard to find. Standing idle on top of a building didn't give the average sized man much coverage. Zoro knew he was slightly more built then the average sized man, which gave him advantage when it came to brute strength. But when the widest cover was a foot wide pole and an empty dustbin, being small and minute would have saved a lot of trouble.

Zoro did a rough estimation on how many steps it would take for him to reach the man. Twenty large steps at a run. Easy. If only the man wasn't holding a gun.

Zoro slowly raised his gun to the range of his sight and gently eased back the latch – it was times like these he wished he had put aside some hours to improve his sharpshooting, instead of spending them lifting weights. Or at least had a bigger gun. Either one, he wasn't picky.

Ajax threw himself into the dirt as three loud cracks of gun fire echoed throughout the vicinity. He wrapped his arms around his head and began to pray. Bon Clay almost dropped the stretcher in fright, much to the cameraman's pain – he began howling about his legs.

"Maybe a small dose wouldn't hurt, after all," murmured the doctor, studying the liquid in the needle he was suddenly holding.

At that moment a black clad body feel from the building they had been walking under. Ajax stood up just in time as the carcass 'thumped' to the cement and dirt ground, its limbs twisted grotesquely and in a way not even Picasso could imitate.

Ajax clutched onto the nearest person, which was the okama, as his face turned deathly white. "That was…"

Bon Clay wasn't in any better a state; he was sweating so much that his makeup was running away – even his hands were sweating furiously. He struggled to keep a hold on the stretcher.

"Ajax," the doctor snapped, trying to single handily twist his gun around to his front. "Get a hold of yourself. Jeez. Hurry up and stick to the buildings!"

Ajax gladly pressed his back to the warm cement and tried to clutch his gun in the most sinister way possible. His hands were shaking and as a result, the machine rattled. He swallowed, "Where did Zoro get off to?"

"Ssh, just keep moving," the doctor urged the soldiers forward. "He's gone to take out someone who was on the roof top."

Ajax almost tripped. "Holy shit! He can't use a gun to save his career!"

Zoro pressed his fist to his shoulder, trying to stem the flow of blood that was dripping from between his fingers. He cursed himself. They were practically surrounded; it was unbelievable how fast the foreign soldiers had spread throughout the city. It was too fast. It was suspicious. Zoro stooped as a fresh wave of pain hit him. He should've paid more attention to his surroundings. Two snipers…no, seven of them. He had killed two, but one of their bullets had hit him. They had impressive marksmanship. Fatal, but impressive nonetheless.

He slammed himself into a wall for support and paused to think. It was as Ajax had said; there were only four men and a gay guy. One was injured in both legs; Ajax was smart but hopeless in combat; Clay had the skill but lacked the guts, the doctor was capable but not trained for war. Then it was him, the daring green idiot who'd do the dangerous work – now he was screwed over. Zoro spun around as a man clad in black stepped around the side of the building, leisurely smoking a thick tobacco. Zoro growled and grabbed the figure. The enemy didn't have time to make a sound as his head collided heavily into the building's wall with a clunk. Zoro let go of the unconscious body – hopefully it was more than a bruise. He peered down the road – and there was a car. A funny little jeep looking thing. Zoro let his eyes feast on it for a while; it was the perfect means of transporting their completely retarded group to safety.

He bit hard on his tongue as he added a new cartridge of bullets to his gun; with every breath he exhaled a small whine would issue from his mouth. Zoro found that really pathetic, but there was little he could do about it. After a little effort with the one good arm he had, he held the gun to his chest, ready. This operation required two working hands – sadly, he had only one and black spots had entered his vision. Zoro shook them away and edged his way slowly around the corner.

In addition to the car, there were also seven other soldiers. Zoro raised his gun, closed one eye and fired. One soldier went down, strangely unlike the movies; there was no jerk of surprise or over enthusiastic spinning around and grasping of the chest, just a flop over and collapse in a heap. He did not want to replay the scene and held down the trigger for rapid, continuous fire.

Zoro paused his firing momentarily to peer through the dust. It was now or never. He ran to the car and threw himself into the driver's seat and almost fell to sleep when the soft seat coverings touched his back. He smacked himself in the head and was nearly knocked out.

"C'mon," he reached down and felt the key in the ignition, with a sigh of relief he twisted it and the machine came whirring to life. He began a speed reverse down the street.

Ajax whimpered quietly. Bon Clay hushed him. The cameraman was dead silent and the doctor was jabbing him with needles. The small team sat crunched up in a hole of a building, not quite sure what they were waiting for but waiting nonetheless. It was then, that a car drove by and stopped. If possible, the four soldiers squeezed deep into their hideout.

"_Will you all just get the hell into the damn car!_" Zoro shouted out at their general direction.

"Whoot!" Bon Clay cried, leaping out from the hole and twirled around. "Our favourite green headed moron is back!"

Zoro made a face. "Just hurry up and get in," he grumbled.

The Doctor and Ajax came out carrying the stretcher where the cameraman lay retelling his life's story…again. The Doctor grinned and opened the boot. "Good find, man," he lowered the injured soldier into it and slammed it shut again. "You had us worried, kiddo, thought you were a goner." He climbed into the front passenger seat and looked at him with a grin that faltered. "You right, man?"

"Yeah," Zoro frowned starting up the car. "Gonna be a nervous nutcase for the rest of my life, but I'm fine."

The doctor didn't look too assured, but allowed the green soldier to continue onwards. There was a moment of pure silence as the car's engine mumbled along, speeding quite nicely over the uneven road. Everyone in the vehicle leaned contentedly into their seats as a wave of peace washed over them.

"You know," said Bon Clay breaking the silence. "I have a feeling that we'll die if we return to base." This was followed by a very awkward silence. "I mean, think about it," he leaned across to the front seats. "There must be a couple of hundred troops there, they'll sort it out, and it's been under fire before. What can you expect from a cameraman, a doctor, a hopeless Lieutenant, an injured soldier and a guy like me?" This was followed by several snorts.

The doctor made a face. "We were _ordered _to return to base. Gotta go even if you don't want to," he

Shrugged, "you don't really get an option, man."

"Well, I guess the settles it," Zoro said resolutely. "We're going AWOL."

* * *

**Giri: Wow. Chapter 13!! OMG! So you know, next chapter will be the last for Zoro's flash back and then we'll be back on track for making The Broke Blokes' lives all the more happier! Look forward to it!**

**Info: AWOL is an military acronym for (A)bsence (W)ithout (O)fficial (L)eave. In WWI and WWII, to 'desert' your unit was a terrible crime and punishable by death. Many units that went AWOL during these times were put into jail (or something of the sort) and given quite severe punishments. **

**Today, however, going AWOL or deserting your unit isn't AS bad as back in WWI and II, thanks to some law (or something) being passed that upholds human moral and ethics. In other words, you'd have to have a really good reason for going AWOL - like, there was no way you were fighting against a thousand people with only ten men. But then you'd be bombarded with the whole patriotic "you're supposed to die for your country!" thing and probably end up shaming your unit and your family, ect, ect.**

**XD There's your history lesson! Please review! This story wouldn't be without all you awesome reviewers out there!  
**


	14. Return home

**"The only man who sticks closer to you in adversity than a friend is a creditor."**

**- The author has never been known -  
**

There was something barbaric about those grey-green marine ships and it made any man wonder how on earth those things managed to stay afloat on the water. Perhaps there was an illusion behind it, because surly anything that grotesquely large would to have sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Sadly, that was not the case; the fact was that they floated like a disease on the ocean. Their many communication aerials struck skywards as if it wanted to dominate that too. The sea reflection showed what it truly was, twisted metal. Zoro lowered his binoculars and rubbed his eyes wearily. The car crawled slowly around the back of a warehouse and out of view of any random solider that, at this point, might not be on their side. Zoro turned off the engine and listened to the silence beyond the vehicle. Some seagulls cawed over the sounds of ship repair, the unloading and loading of cranes, the grind of steel on steel.

Ajax shuddered. "Oh good god," he muttered.

Zoro frowned and turned around to face the back. "What?"

"I can't believe we're doing this," his eyes widened in his rugged face. "I'm going to loose my job. I'll be lucky if I'm down graded to Petty Officer."

"Actually, I think you get thrown into jail for a few years…but at least you'll be alive," consoled the doctor ineffectively while Clay's mouthed fell open and the Lieutenant almost fainted.

The soldiers turned solemnly to the windscreen and stared out at the browning wall of a warehouse which they faced before they painfully got out.

"Where're we going?" Zoro asked turning to Ajax for directions.

Ajax looked hysterical. "I don't know," he snapped, "I got you here! You do something."

Zoro sighed, more out of fatigue than anything else, his gung-ho adrenaline had died hours ago and his injured arm hung limp at his side, and though the bleeding had stop the pain continued. He quietly closed the car door behind him.

Clay peered around the corner of the warehouse, tried to swallow but found that his throat was too dry and ran back to his group taking out the stretcher and the now fully unconscious cameraman. "Couldn't we do this at night?" he asked, offering to hold the stretcher in replace of Zoro's arm.

"It'd be the same, man," replied the doctor. "There'd be so many lights out here it wouldn't matter if we went day or night."

Zoro blinked. "It wouldn't?" Everyone looked at him. "Okay," he continued on slowly. "I suppose we should board a ship…or something."

Ajax hit himself in the head. "And what ship would that be? They're all enemy frigates."

"I don't know," snapped Zoro irritably. "We'll just bloody highjack one."

The lieutenant rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, Zoro. Sure. You go and try to highjack an entire enemy frigate with just four men. Go on."

Clay sighed as an argument broke out between the two and allowed his eyes to aimlessly float out towards the ocean. He cocked his head slowly to one side, then to the other and frowned. "You don't suppose we could just borrow a civilian's boat, eh?"

Zoro growled. "What?"

"Yeah, say it again Clay," retorted Ajax sarcastically. "Zoro's shot and hard of hearing."

The green soldier turned to his friend. "Right."

The doctor snapped. "_Will you two just shut the hell up!?_" he shouted quietly. "You're going to get us caught, man!" His head snapped around as a soldier appeared, talking rapidly in some foreign language. The intruding soldier stopped and gaped at what he had blundered across and failed to remember what to do in situations like these. He grappled for his gun.

Zoro felt himself spinning his weapon around to his front, heard the choked gasp of Ajax warning him about the sound of gunfire alerting others and, running on instinct; he grabbed a broken bar of metal and lunged at the enemy, who was still struggling to get his gun prepared.

Zoro watched the soldier's face morph from shook to horror as the bar _thunked_ into the side of his head head. Zoro stumbled backwards as the man hit the ground, his eyes rolled back and his mouth fell open.

Ajax was silently screaming his heart out as Zoro shoved the unconscious body into the car. "We're taking the civilian's ship," Zoro snapped hoarsely, his voice failing him.

Clay was supporting himself against the warehouse. "Oh god," he gasped. "I can't take this anymore. Just leave me!"

"Guys," Zoro rasped again before clearing his throat: "Get moving, come on!" He pushed the silently screaming Ajax a couple of steps. "Snap out of it, you idiot!" Zoro hissed impatiently and turned to the doctor who managed a weak smile but ventured no further than that.

Zoro looked around himself, back at the car where the soldier was, towards the water where their only chance of escape floated and then down at himself holding the twisted bar of metal. He started laughing. It was crazy really, really crazy, mostly because he had realised just how terrified he was. He realised that he was so terrified that suddenly getting shot in the head would be a relief. He laughed until it turned to heaving coughs, until ringing began in his ears and by the time he composed himself he found that his comrades had fallen where they stood. That is, they had fallen asleep – it took a while for him to figure that out.

"Oi oi," Zoro snapped, nudging Clay with his boot. "Wake up you bloody weirdo."

Clay stirred but failed to awaken.

"C'mon," he nudged harder. "I ain't going anywhere without…" his voiced faded away as he looked around once more, this time searching for the low whirling sound that had suddenly come to be. He padded down his clothing in case there was a mechanism on him that he was yet to know about. Finally, he looked up.

It was in a spurt of desperation; he grabbed the back of the okama's collar and hauled him effortlessly to his feet, soundly kicked the doctor in the ribs and managed to get his knee into the side of Ajax's face. They awoke in time to watch the harbour go up in flames, the warehouse collapsed beneath the hot wave of heat and air and hear the deafening roar which shattered their ears.

The searing heat lasted for only a moment before everything became deathly silent.

Zoro managed to open his swollen eyes, managed to cough some blood and managed to look at the man he had saved for the second time. "Save your own arse next time," he hissed.

Clay's eyes could not get any wider, his mouth fell open once, twice, he managed to whimper on his third and forth try.

Zoro sighed and closed his eyes as a torrent of heavy, salty rain began to fall. "Nice," he muttered.

Bon Clay wiped the blood and water trickling down his forehead and trembling, rolled onto his hands and knees. "J-just…stay still," he stuttered weakly. "I'll go f-find the doctor." He crawled through the rubble and disappeared into the smoke.

He raised his hand and placed it on his chest, Zoro winced as he felt the gaping wound that had split him open. A moment later and a blood covered face came into view. It was the doctor.

"Just hold in there, kiddo," he said steadily, pulling off his soldier's coat. "Hold on, it's gonna be alright, man."

"I don't feel anything," Zoro replied as the downpour suddenly stopped.

"Yeah?" The doctor began the process of binding his friend together again. "You're lucky, man," he said. "Any deeper and you'd be a dead one."

Zoro frowned. "What happened to Ajax?"

"His arm and a couple of ribs are broken, but nothing too serious. The explosion made him fly into the car. You should've seen him go through the windshield, pure poetry. Everything kind of went in this slow motion, man." He managed a grim smile and tightened the bandages. "Clay's collar bone snapped, but he should be fine – he reached me okay. So…what now?"

The green soldier allowed his mind to settle before he answered. "We'll take a boat. I guess it doesn't matter if we live or die anymore, does it?"

Ajax appeared clutching his twisted arm. "I'm mangled. I feel like shit. I flew through the windshield of a frigging car. I'm still going to live, mate," he snapped.

Clay raised a good arm wearily. "For living!"

Another arm rose out of the rubble. "For my ten wives and fifty children!"

Zoro grinned to himself. "Well, that settles it." He sat up, ignoring the cry his body gave. "Let's hijack that god damn civilian's ship."

Walking through the rubble was like climbing a tower made from cardboard. Cardboard that smoked and burned his hands and knees every time he stumbled and fell. Every so many feet his leg would be swallowed up to thighs and he would have to painfully clamber out again. He could not bend forward, could not bend back, his arms were aching and the only good one he had left had a swollen elbow. His knees screamed every time his bent them and by the time they passed the rubble and reached the harbour his body had gone into shock.

The frigates that had been floating menacingly on the water were now half submerged and smoking. Survivors were taking life boats and motoring away from the devastation, only to confront it on shore.

Ajax watched them approach in dread. "They're coming, Zoro."

"They're not close enough to do us any harm, man," the doctor commented, ushering the Lieutenant forward. "Just worry about getting to-" he dived for cover as a spray of bullets whistled overhead. The cameraman howled in pain.

"Shut up," Zoro snapped and began to reload his gun. Zoro narrowed his eyes in concentration and bit down on his tongue as he tried to right his weapon, his hands were shaking furiously and he growled in frustration. "_Clay, give me you frigging gun!_" The soldier immediately obeyed, relieved that it he was finally free from it. "_Cover fire, guys_," Zoro barked over the gunfire. "Make sure you get to the ship."

"What about you!" Ajax objected hysterically.

"_JUST BLOODY DO IT!_"

The three men and the injured man on the stretcher ran from cover as Zoro sprayed the enemy life boats, his present state made his inaccurate marksmanship more so, but random shots were just a dangerous – he watched as multiple soldiers fell over the side of the boat and into the water. He got up and ran after his comrades now boarding the small sailing ship. He looked up the rope ladder that hung down the side and began to ascend, shirking away from every bullet that embedded itself into the steel work. It felt like two years of pain before he finally threw himself onto the ship's deck gasping for breath and coughing loudly.

Ajax had automatically become the captain. "_Forget the god damn sails!_" he barked at Clay who looked at the wrecked remains of the torn canvass in despair. "_Engine! Start the god damn-_" the engines spurred into life and sound, the doctor grinned at his success and the boat began to rapidly leave the docks.

Zoro lay on his back and watched the sky, listening to the sound of bullets ricocheting off the ship's side; he inhaled sharply as the ship tilted violently onto its side. It took a moment for it to right itself as another shock sent it tilting once more.

Clay pulled his hair out in disbelief. "_They're throwing grenades at us!_"

Zoro levered himself onto the railings and straightened Clay's gun, aiming for the small motor at the back of the marine life boats, he fired and received an impressive explosion for his efforts. He watched the flames float on the water and even from the distance he was at, could feel the heat on his face. He sighed and pushed the weapon into the ocean.

"What did you do that for?!" Clay said, startled.

"That's it," Zoro replied tiredly. "I'm not shooting any more. From now on, if they come, they come. So be it."

And everything went black.

* * *

"Hey man!" The doctor's grin filled his vision. "How're you feeling? No, no, no, no," he pinned the green soldier down in his bunk. "Don't go movin'. I patched ya up as best I can," he explained. "I used the laces off Clay's boot to sew ya closed," he laughed for a moment before composing himself. "We'll be docking soon at Shark's Port. We've all contacted our family members to pick us up, but…" his voice trailed off as he tried to arrange his words.

"Forget it," said Zoro, sitting up. "You don't have to be decent about it all."

The doctor sighed. "Do you have any friends instead, y'know?" Zoro stared blankly at him. "Well, I'll leave the radio with ya, call someone okay?" He smiled and made to leave the room when Zoro stopped him.

"Could you pass me my coat?" he asked, pointing to it hung over a chair.

The doctor did so and left. Zoro studied the collar of the coat and picked idly at the stitching after five minutes he unravelled the cotton and a small piece of white plastic fell out and landed on his sheets. He picked it up and studied the numbers.

Zoro sighed and turned to the radio.

* * *

The land was fresh and clean, it was what everyone was promised heaven would look like but this was better, because he did not have to die to get there. It felt as though the whole nightmare he had been living in for the past couple of years had completely vanished, had become nothing but a far off thought. He smiled as Ajax broke into tears of joy and relief as his old parents arrived to take him home, their old arms were outstretched towards him, too, but Zoro politely denied going back with them.

To everyone's surprise, the cameraman had indeed a beautiful wife who he had been married to for twelve years and three children, all girls, each of them a bigger story teller than their father. Again there were tears of relief, of gratefulness and of all emotions.

"I want to thankyou, everyone," said the cameraman sincerely, "for taking care of me and for carrying my god forsaken stretcher as far as you did. I hope stories are written about you guys!"

Bon Clay practically leapt into the arms of his fellow Baroque Works and exclaimed how happy he was to be alive more than once. The doctor's nephew arrived at last, looking flustered and terrified; he marvelled at his uncle's resoluteness and failed to stop thanking Zoro. Again, he was offered to go with them.

Again he denied.

* * *

Zoro yawned loudly and stretched his arms, arching his back so that his spine clunked back into action. "…And that's how I got here."

Sanji looked at him for a moment longer and frowned. "No one picked you up?" His green comrade nodded unemotionally. The blonde studied the opposite wall. "That's sad."

"Ah well," said Zoro carelessly. "I prefer this life. Beats being chucked in jail for going AWOL," he laughed and stood up.

"And what do you think of this type of life?" Sanji asked, taking Zoro's offered hand and rose to his feet.

"This life? Compared to shooting guns, stabbing people, blowing them up, walking around in absolute poverty, this is pure luxury," he grinned. "You can't fall any lower, Dart-brow, so when the time comes to get back on your feet," he shrugged, "then do it I suppose. Just appreciate being alive, honestly."

Sanji shoved his hands into his pockets. "Fine. So, what now?"

"We'll go and get intoxicated with alcohol," Zoro said, picking a random direction to walk in. "Always need one after you hear a war story."

Sanji watched the green man go and laughed. "What the hell." He caught up to his companion. "So who was the person you radioed that never came?"

Zoro blinked. "No one, the plastic tag was giving me an itch." He shrugged, there were some things he would never tell.

* * *

Nami came crashing through the door laughing her head off and flung her scarf and coat into a chair. Luffy came into the house in a similar state.

"No, seriously," continued Luffy, throwing himself into a chair. "You had to see his face to get the full effect," he mimicked the face he was talking about perfectly and sent Nami into a fit of laughter.

"That's so him," she cried, clutching her stomach. "Seriously though, how'd he get three chins?"

Luffy shrugged. "Dunno. Probably a growth or something."

The comment had Nami in the kitchen howling her head off. "I'm never going to get over it," he heard her laugh and he broke into fits of giggles himself.

Nami grinned to herself and poured out a mug of coffee for the two of them. "Coffee's on the table," she called. "Get it before it goes cold."

"I will," Luffy called back. "Can I watch TV?"

Nami thought about it. "If you want." She heard him give a triumphant whoop and the electrical box was turned on, he dashed in, got his drink and dashed out again. Nami left him to it and stepped into her room, she looked at her phone flashing its messages at her. She opened her message bank and sat at the end of her bed with her drink, listening to all the phone calls she missed.

"_Message seven…__….Hey Nami_," began a voice.

Nami stopped in mid-sip and listened to the stranger who had somehow gotten her phone number.

"…_I haven't contacted you in a long time_," the voice laughed softly. "_You've probably forgotten 'bout me, eh?_" There came a long pause, in that time, Nami safely set the cup of coffee down on the floor.

"_I wouldn't ask you unless it was important_," he said slowly, painfully. "_But I'm coming back on a boat and it'll be docking soon at some place called Shark's Port. I need…I need you to pick me up from there, Nami. You don't have to…but…I'd be…really grateful for it. __Charge me whatever for it… Come whenever. I hope you're well. Love you. Bye…_" the next message started to play, Nami stopped it went back to Zoro's message, her finger hovered over the phone before she promptly pressed delete. She looked up as Luffy entered the room.

"Nothing on," he complained before he stopped and looked at her. "What's wrong?"

Nami pulled her thick over coat on and headed back down the hallway. "Luffy," she said, stopping at the front door. "Could you stay here while I do something?"

Luffy made a face. "Depends," he said. "What're you doing?"

She was already down the front steps and into the car before he could question her further.

Ice. He felt like stone, like a statue aging in the public park on a winter's morning. He had managed to walk to the road before he collapsed at the curb and he now sat still, facing the wind, watching the sun sink lower and lower into the horizon. It had been a long time since he had seen a smoke billowing free sunset, though he could still hear the sound of distant gunfire in his ears as it played over and over in his mind. He could not quite get rid of the emptiness he felt without his gun to his chest and no matter how many breaths he took the smell of fresh blood was still there. And no matter how he tried his body was no longer responding to his wishes, so he sat facing the cooling wind as the sun turned the sky an unfathomable blue.

Zoro watched as the first star began to fade into existence at the same time a red car rolled to a stop on the opposite side of the road and a woman, rugged up in a fashionable faux coat stepped out. Her eyes landed on the cold man sitting by the roadside and she stood there, unable to move.

Nami felt the hot tears prick the sides of her eyes as she finally found her legs and crossed the empty road towards him. She noted beneath the failing sun, his pale, blank face and his unseeing eyes. She kneeled down in front of him and cupped his icy face in both her hands and raised his head gently up to meet hers. "That'll be five-hundred dollars," she said quietly.

Zoro frowned slightly. "I will when I can," he rasped and her lips came down and met his momentarily; before she kissed him gently on the cheek and forehead. Zoro leaned into her soft warmth and closed his eyes. "Thank-you," he murmured.

Nami stroked his hair. "You're welcome."

* * *

**O.O - Oh. My. God. Yatta! Another chapter! Well, I've been writing this story in font size 10 and it's 18,866 words and 26 pages long! So thanks everyone for sticking with this story for this long, really appreciate it!**

**Ooooh, really ZoNa at the end wasn't it?? Hehehe. It's not going to be a pairing of anything so don't worry about it too much. I'll probably explain what happened in the next chapter.**

**Until then...REVIEW!**


	15. Cloud jumping

**"It is yet to be proven that intelligence holds any survival value."**

**- Arthur. C. Clarke -**

Dark clouds had gathered above them and had no trouble in turning everything to a gloomy shade of grey. Colds gusts of wind managed to creep up car infested streets, people walked in packs to circulate warmth while some jumped into taxis and regretted as the traffic weaved in and out for a far as the eye could see.

Down the back alley's, away from the eyes of enraged drivers and human packs, walked two unique men. One had moss-green hair, dark eyes and a stoic gaze that any movie star would kill to have. He walked with his back straight and his arms loosely at his side, adorned with clothes that were a size or two too small. His grin was lopsided, as if he could smell the rum from where he was. His name was Roronoa Zoro.

Beside him, walked another man, his silk-yellow hair blew in the breeze, revealing all but for one eye. An artistic swirl above this was his eyebrow and would have been a trademark if he had ever accomplished his dream of becoming a chef. His clothes may have suggested a once fine man, but in reality he was an angel fallen from grace. It had a poetic ring. His surviving uncle had never given him the honour of a last name, so he was called, Sanji.

Sanji sighed loudly into the surrounding peace, from within him he could feel the built up stress dissipate and his accumulated worries fade. He smiled at the soft wind on his face, at the many dark alleys and passages and at the cloud tumbling sky. "Yeah," he stretched his arms. "I feel great! Need a smoke though," he commented off side to himself so that Zoro could not hear. "So, Mairmo," he started. "Are you going to pay for the drinks?"

Zoro looked at him and made a face. "What? Why? Do you have money?"

Sanji blinked. "No," he answered slowly.

"Then don't ask stupid questions," Zoro snapped.

If Sanji had released all his worries before then one had came floating back to him and settled itself happily on his conscious. He paused and shrugged uncertainly –give it a few drinks and it will go away. Just as he was about to restart his new life, Sanji felt the crack of air split his ears and froze, his heart painfully skipped a beat - it was as though the whole world had thrown itself on his shoulders. "What was that?"

Ahead, the green man had stopped and he motioned to Sanji to follow him. He did so, trotting unevenly behind. "What is it?"

Zoro pushed himself flat against the wall and peered around the corner, there came a long pause before he finally whispered: "That explains it."

The blonde edged around him and looked out. A black Mercedes, shrouded in the darkness of the building lay idle as two men heaved a third in. Sanji felt his hands go cold and his legs go numb. "Shit. It's bloody murder." He felt Zoro grab his hair and tug his head back around to where it was safe.

"Number one rule when you see these kinds of things," said Zoro seriously. "Never get involved. Never get seen. It happens all the time so don't worry about it. Come on." He began to quietly go back the way he had come.

Sanji swallowed and looked out once more at the black Mercedes where he watched the murderer close the door with a cold and grim face – he looked up. For a moment their eyes met and Sanji pulled his head back, in what he knew, was too late and ran after the Marimo.

Sanji finally found Zoro staring at a dead end. He taunted him whilst the green man insisted that it was not there before.

Outside the pub, the rain had finally set in and pounded deafeningly on the window panes and iron roof. Inside was warm and full of jostling bodies, loud music and even louder talk. A TV was mounted on the wall giving the latest news report that nobody paid the slightest bit of attention to, and Sanji came to the conclusion most of them had probably caused the crime in the first place.

Another jug of rum went down his throat before he had time to stop it. He didn't mind this pub, except for its lack of women.

Zoro pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. "Everything's on tab," he announced and then looked at the table. "_You drank it all?!_"

Sanji nodded and grinned.

"Git," he spat and stalked back to the bar to get some more.

Sanji looked around the room and eyed the men's bathroom, he stood up and battled his way towards it and shouldered the door open. He wrinkled his nose at the basins, at everything until he finally found a decent looking toilet right down the end. Unzipping his jeans, Sanji listened as more people came in and filled one cubicle together in the one beside his. He made a face and rolled his eyes.

"Did you get him?" Whispered a harsh voice.

"Yeah. One clean sweep. We chased him so deep in the alley's no one even heard the gun shot…"

Sanji needed to go, bad, but he was man and held on - his ears had become so infinitely loud that he could hear his own heart beat.

"This is a tight run man," snapped the first voice. "We're being paid thousands for this guy's assassination. No one had better been there!"

The other voice sounded hesitant. "Well…some poor guy saw us put the body in the car."

"Ah shit, Rayman! You'd better hurry up and find that idiot and shut him up. You know where he is?"

Sanji leaned closer to the wall of his cubicle.

"The guys'll find him. He's not hard to miss…blonde hair, bangs over one eye…" he paused. "Curly eyebrow. Quite unique really."

Sanji failed to hold everything in and let go in a wave of relief and regret.

"_There's someone in here!?_" The two men charged out of their own cubicle and kicked down the door beside them, simultaneously raising their guns to the back of a tall blonde man.

Sanji cursed himself – at least they gave him the dignity of zipping his jeans back up before he turned around to face their guns. He raised his arms.

"That's him," declared the grim faced man. "He's the one!"

"Wanna step outside for a bit, mate," asked the other, waving his gun around as if it was supposed to be convincing. "C'mon out of the loo."

Sanji edged out of the cubicle. The moment he was free from the combined space he back flipped onto his hands as his feet and heavy shoes collided beautifully together with their alcohol bloated faces. He jumped rightwards again and looked at the two unconscious people, he felt the time called for a suave comment but he fought against it. He left, rubbing the inside of his legs – it had been a long time since he had kicked somebody full in the face.

Zoro returned to the table with double the serving of alcohol then before, he looked at the empty table and then to the empty chair, he felt a fierce hand grip the back of his shirt. "What the…?" he turned around to face his attacker. "Sanji!?"

"_Come on!_" He pushed Zoro towards the door. "_Out! Out!_"

"Wait!" Zoro snapped. Sanji stopped his frantic escape and watched as he grabbed a bottle and leaned his head back; the liquid rapidly began to drain into his mouth as he hungrily swallowed. "Ah!" he slammed the empty bottle onto the table. "Okay," he wiped his mouth. "Talk."

"No time," Sanji grabbed his shirt again and dragged him outside.

Zoro reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged along. "Am I supposed to be cooperating or something? Because you're acting like we're being chased by the Mafia."

Sanji swung open the door and stepped into the downpour. "Remember that murder?"

"Which one? Today's?"

"They saw me!"

"Huh?"

"Those murderers saw me looking!"

"Then what the hell are you doing getting me involved!?"

Sanji paused. "I don't know…because you saw it too. Shh!" He narrowed his eyes in the rain. "Did you see that?"

Zoro crossed his arms. "No. But I guess when you drink ten jugs of alcohol in a row you can start to see anything." A dark shadow crossed the corner of his eye and he glanced sideways at the blonde. "Can't be that many?"

"Dunno," the blonde muttered back, wiping his wet hair out of his face.

"Do they have guns?"

"Big ones," Sanji heard Zoro slap his forehead. "Should we run?"

"Like hell I wanna be shot," Zoro hissed at him. "Do you want to be shot?"

"Of course bloody not, piss-head!"

Zoro shoved the skinny man into the alley beside the pub. "_Then run for god's sake!_"

Sanji stumbled forward for a few steps and righted himself then pushed forward against the rain and ran for his life. With nothing to see and hear in the rain, he made the assumption that Zoro was somewhere behind him. After several minutes, Sanji slowed and caught his breath. His clothes were horribly heavy and he vainly attempted to rub his eyes to clear the water, he then cupped his hands and called: "_MARIMO?_ _OI!_"

He shielded his eyes as a black figuring began to appear, mottled by the rain. Sanji slinked to the dark side of a building and waited.

Two beams of car lights flooded down the alley and illuminated the running figure. Zoro spotted Sanji staring incredulously at him.

Zoro ran straight past him shouting triumphantly: "_Five down!_"

By now, Sanji could hear the roar of engine, his adrenaline pumped through his veins once more as he took flight. He caught up to Zoro.

"He must've been some important guy," the green man said, commenting on the murder. He ran further before finally saying: "We gotta get the hell out of these alleys."

Sanji nodded and looked back at the car lights. "Crap Zoro, you made them angry?"

The green man grinned maniacally.

"Here," Sanji snapped, jumping onto the wrung of a steel ladder which scaled the side of a building.

Zoro watched him go. "What if they're up on the roof?"

"Beats getting run down in a narrow alley."

Zoro clambered after him. "Good point." By the time he reached the top the blonde chef was already measuring the distant to the next building. "Oh god, Dart-brow," he panted. "You're not going-"

The blonde jumped, landing neatly and effortlessly on the other building. "_Hurry it up_."

Zoro looked down at the drop. "Argh," he grumbled, taking several steps back. Voices and beams of light were floating up the side of the building. With a grunt, Zoro ran and leapt. Below him he could here the crack of gun fire and felt the heat of lead zoom pass him – they missed. His feet hit the building with a wet slap and his knees collapsed beneath him.

"Wasn't so hard, was it?" Sanji said as the green man picked himself of the cement. "Onto the next one!"

Zoro watched Sanji leap away, he rolled his shoulders – there was no way he was letting the blonde gloat. Together they crossed the building tops, slipping and skidding on the slick, polluted rain water. They jumped at the last possible moment, hauled the other to safety when one slipped.

Sanji grabbed Zoro's arm and pulled the teetering Marimo back onto the rooftop. The blonde was panting heavily but a grin plastered his face. "Enjoying yourself?" he laughed over the rain, slapping the man on the back.

"Jumping's not my forte," Zoro panted back, ducking his head as a few stray bullets whistled pass. "And its times like these that I wish I had frigging rifle," he wiped his forehead and looked ahead. "We've run out of buildings."

"I know," Sanji replied casually.

The green man nodded slowly. "Guess we'll just jump, eh?" He stepped up to the edge of the building and looked down.

"Guess so," said the blonde.

Zoro grinned lopsidedly. "We'll probably die."

Sanji shrugged. "You can't fall any lower."

"You're right."

They jumped.

* * *

**AN:// Holy god. Wow. Yeah, its been a while since I've been on FF. Yeah. Well, I must say that I had finished this story many ages ago but just never got 'round to puttng it up. I'm looking at my writing style here and I must say that it has changed since this story - which I wrote almost a year ago. heh heh. But anyways, apologies to those who used to read this story and probably don't anymore ^-^', but some things never quite turn out the way you want them.  
**


	16. Luck

**"'Luck' is activated when you think that all your options have expired."**

**- Isaac J. Kouhmer -  
**

Sanji felt his wet shirt roll up near his chin as he dangled precariously close to the ground; he was so close that his finger tips brushed lightly against the cement. His chest heaved to catch at the air and he exhaled in utter disbelief. "Whoo," he swung gently side to side. "Wow, what an adrenaline rush... I think we just denied all known laws of gravity." He grinned and tapped Zoro's head with a shoe. "Good work, Marimo."

Zoro clutched tightly with one hand to Sanji's skinny leg and with another clung desperately to an iron bar that struck out of the side of the building from which they had leapt. He sighed in relief. "Thanks," he replied, looked down at the blonde and blinked. "So you _do_ have two eyes."

Sanji's face glared up at him. "Of course I bloody do," he snapped.

"I'm going to let go now…do a handstand or something," suggested Zoro.

"Yeah, just let me get ready-"

Zoro let him go and laughed as the blonde hit the ground in a heap of limbs. "Whoops!"

Sanji rubbed his head and picked himself up. "Bloody moron, you are!"

"_GET DOWN FROM THE IRON BAR AND STEP AWAY FROM THE BUILDING._"

Sanji shot his arms into the air as the high beam of car lights flooded the surrounding area, the glare pinned him against the wall and he narrow his eyes into the light as Zoro dropped down behind him.

"Let's jump off another building," said Zoro sarcastically as he raised his arms to the sounds of clicking guns. "Except I won't break our fall."

Sanji growled inwardly. "Oh shut up."

They had been on the move for what he felt was well over an hour. Every bump, every corner sharply swerved was accentuated by the fact that his head was touching the bottom of his feet and also by the fact that he was in the boot of a Mercedes half his length. Whatever he was lying on was stabbing him in the gut and smelt of metal. He wished that he had Marimo's special ability of falling asleep whenever his was tipped vertical – it was lonely to recall all the happy moments of his life all by himself.

A sharp jolt had the green man opening his eyes. "We stopped yet?" he slurred.

Sanji sighed. "No…oi! Oi! Don't fall back to sleep!" He kneed the man in the neck.

"What?" Zoro snapped. He read the silence and rolled his eyes. "You're not crying are you?"

"_Where the hell did that come from?_"

"Good, good," chuckled the Marimo. "Just checking."

Sanji sighed loudly. "Are you recalling all the happy moments in your life?"

Zoro thought about it. "No. Not really."

"Isn't it weird," continued the once-chef, "how we'll die like this."

"I'm not really up for dying," the other said.

Sanji nudged him. "So you do have life aims."

"No."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You just don't wanna say."

"Not to you."

"Why? Is it a secret?"

"Not really."

"Then what is it?" he pressed. "What did you always want?" He waited for Zoro's response which he knew was coming.

"It's nothing really…" he tried to shrug, but failed due to his inhuman bindings and lack of space and air. "But I always wanted a black Mercedes."

Sanji felt like slapping his forehead. "Is that all?!"

Zoro felt awkward. "Yeah."

At that moment the boot opened, letting in the drizzle of cold rain and the soft growl of thunder in the distance. Zoro crossed his eyes as the barrel of a gun pressed itself firmly against his forehead, the large man grabbed his bindings and dragged him out of the small confinement, forcing him to stand on his legs.

Sanji rolled his neck around and stretched his legs. "Whew, that's-"

"_NO TALKING!_" The man snapped, his large gun complemented his large mouth perfectly.

Zoro frowned darkly at the surrounding occupants, there were now only seven but each had a hand held weapon. He watched as they tied Sanji up to a pine tree, their heads split in raucous laughter. He stood beside the blonde as they tied him up also.

"Like a firing line," Zoro joked to Sanji with a lopsided grin.

"Have you seen one?" Sanji asked, his body tensing as he begun to vividly imagine his mangled body.

Zoro nodded. "I've seen a couple."

"Is it a nice death?"

Zoro looked at him. "No. You always die with this pained expression." He looked at the scum taking their leisurely time to load their guns. "You shouldn't get tense," he advised.

Sanji struggled against his bonds. "And why's that?"

"You loose a lot more blood when you're tensed."

"And is that why you're stoically calm?"

"For the small chance I might live," Zoro replied coolly.

"Ah," the blonde stilled and watched as the men took several steps back and raised the hollow barrels to meet with his head. "So you know Marimo, you're not such a bad guy. I actually enjoyed all those detentions when we were kids – except that time you swore at Nami, you deserved the broken nose and the suspension."

Zoro snorted. "I hated detention and Nami got what was coming…the broken nose was predicted."

Sanji listened to the rattle of the guns as their fingers pressed the trigger. "Wish I could say goodbye to Nami."

Zoro was about to reply when they fired.

A loud crack echoed repeatedly through his head, but Sanji felt nothing except the coldness press painfully against his skin and the scorching heat blistering his face. He saw nothing except a pure, blinding white light and he knew instantly that he was indeed dying or dead. He watched with serene calmness as the bright light faded, dulling his senses as it did, his head and body lulled forward as his mind slowly shut-down.

Around him came a peaceful bliss of infinite darkness and a gentle coolness, his last breath escaped him with a sigh and everything, at long last, came to a blissful stillness.

After a brief pause, Sanji realised, to his horror that he needed to inhale. He gasped loudly filling the lungs he never thought he would fill again and after a moment he caught his breath and looked at the surrounding devastation.

"Oh my god," gasped an in awe Zoro, starring at the crushed murders beneath the large pine tree. "Who the hell would have thought lightening would strike here?"

Sanji gaped and bowed his head. "I am hence converted. I believe in God!_ Thankyou!_" He had never felt so damn happy in his entire life as he wriggled out of his bonds and untied Zoro. "Can you believe this!?" he said, throwing himself to the ground and kissing the Earth. "Haha! Whooohooo!" The blonde continued to triumphantly twirl himself around in the light rain.

Zoro rubbed his head in relief.

"Oh that's it," said Sanji happily. "I am going to marry Nami!"

Zoro bent down and picked up a gun which was still warm from the lightening strike. "Pft," he snorted. "She'd never agree."

"I've got luck on my side," the blonde rubbed his hands eagerly. "I know how to get to her…" he spotted Zoro and backed up. "What are you doing?"

The green man flicked the wet grass off the weapon and studied it. "Too dark to tell, but," he shrugged and gathered up all available weapons from the lifeless bodies. He walked passed a shock Sanji and threw all the guns into the boot of the Mercedes. "Well?"

Sanji blinked away the light rain. "Well, what?"

"You drive or me?"

Sanji opened the drivers' seat and looked about at the interior. "Little bit tatty," he commented, shutting the door.

Zoro rolled his eyes and closed his door. "I don't think you're in any position to comment," he tugged on Sanji's ripped shirt.

"You're right, you're right," the blonde muttered, changing gears and reversing away from the lightening struck tree and its crushed murderers.

Sanji pulled the car into an alley and stopped the engine; he sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Back to where we started."

Zoro opened an eye and yawned. "Yep," he stretched. "Good old stinking shit-of-an-alley."

"Yeah," he unbuckled his seat belt and got out. "Still, we can sell this car for fair bit." He watched as Zoro slid over the gear box into the driver's seat and placed his hands on the leather steering wheel. Sanji leaned against the car. "What are you doing?"

The engine started and Zoro looked at the once-chef. "I'm just going to do something."

"Like what?" the blonde snapped.

Zoro sighed. "Look, Dart-brow, I'm not telling."

Sanji frowned. "Why?"

"It might get your hopes up."

Sanji blinked. "What?"

Zoro motioned to the alleys around him. "Do you want to live like this all your life?"

Sanji looked around in the darkness.

"I thought you wanted a real house and a woman with all those miniature pesky things?" Zoro continued seriously. "Straight and narrow, Git, you don't get those things when you live like this." He looked at his friend in the eyes. "You can't fall any lower, but it's damn hard to climb back up again."

"And I thought you weren't listening when I told you that," Sanji rubbed his forehead and sighed. "How do you know?"

Zoro put the car in reverse. "I've tried," he shrugged. "Now, move it or I'm running you over."

Sanji took a few steps back with a faint smile. "You coming back, Rat-piss?" He watched the Mercedes edge its ways back onto the street.

"Try to," the green man replied, he beeped the horn briefly and the car lights faded away into the city.

Sanji crossed his arms. "Thanks," he turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

**AN:// Ahaha, thanks for your straightforward reviews peoples, really enjoyed it XD ! Okay, here's the deal, next chapter is the very last for this rather 'stretched' story but there's also an epilogue which requires another chapter, so to end this on a good note I'll be posting both simultaneously and thus bring about the end to this story. Yup, well, hope you enjoyed!! ^-^**


	17. Blonde moss

**"It's strange when the one thing we tried to avoid, ends up becoming us."**

**- Jhon Daily -**

There had been more and more noise coming from the closed blue door located down the dark, narrow, brick laid alley. The black cats had been scared away by the ruckus and the mice population flourished as a result of it, becoming as annoying as the noise. Today, however, was the loudest. Crashing of glass and china, howls of revenge and the continuous foul words filled the alley, climbing the moss covered walls and entering the opened dustbins – there was no escaping it.

He had been a nocturnal creature for some weeks now; so a little daylight noise wasn't going to tempt him off his turf. He would just have to deal with it until the sun went down and the shadows hid him from the world, then he would move and find out what caused such noise.

Apparently, he wouldn't have to wait that long.

The blue door swung open, grinding the opposite wall as it had always done, as fifty or so mismatched hands from various people heaved another person out. The shouting was louder now that the door was open, though the moss absorbed some of their swearing. The man picked himself up off the brickwork, gestured towards the door and left.

Sanji sighed in annoyance. What were people trying to do? Were they trying to right the wrongs of this world? Were they being something they weren't? Or did they try to fit in like every other man and woman on the street? He had personally tried that, fitting in, but it never worked with him – almost drove him into despair. That was until he found the pleasures of being free. Every dark corner was some place to live for a night and he didn't have to pay rent or mortgage or anything! In his eyes the world was his and his world only consisted of him.

He growled in frustration as another human figure appeared, standing boldly against the bright light at the alley's end. The dark figure flattened its black attire and looked around, before making its way towards him. Sanji watched it shove its hands deep in its pockets and kicked an old coke tin along the brick work. It flew true and hit him.

"_Oi_!"

The figure stopped and stared into the darkness, pushing its sunglasses lower so that it could peer over the top of them. There was something different about the moss that grew there. Perhaps it may have flourished from the extra gloom or perhaps it was the way it moved forward, picked up the can and threw it back.

The black man stepped closer and said, "Hello?" Sanji made to kick him away but again he spoke: "Stay where you are, poor-man," he warned darkly. "I'm looking for a bloke with blonde hair and a dart-brow, have you seen him or not?"

"Well that depends," Sanji growled. "Who the hell are you?"

"Have you see him or not, git?" the man snapped impatiently, already turning to walk away.

"Oi!" Sanji jumped to his feet, the rags and paper falling away. "Marimo!"

Zoro looked back, stopped in shock and flicked his sunglasses up onto his head revealing his stunned, wide eyes. "Far out," he said as Sanji jogged up to him. "Oh shit!" Zoro held onto his nose and raised a hand in defence. "Don't come any closer, you smell of rat-piss!"

Sanji ignored him and shoved the green man. "Where the hell did you get all this?" He exclaimed, motioning to his smart new attire.

Zoro grinned. "Like it? Black leather goes well with the Mercedes."

Sanji blinked. "Mercedes? What, the same one we flogged?"

"Hell no," Zoro replied. "Come on," he walked off.

Sanji followed the green man uncertainly around the corner and froze as a shining new Mercedes blazed up at him in the afternoon sun.

Zoro lovingly ran his hand along the car's bonnet. "You like?"

Sanji ran his hand through his dirty-blonde hair. "Yeah," he gushed. Zoro motioned for him to get in and he did, sliding himself into the cool interior.

Zoro rattled the keys and turned the ignition on, the car purred to life and he sighed. "Pretty good eh?"

Sanji raised an eyebrow. "Just a car?"

"Wait until you see the house," he began to reverse and joined the traffic jammed street.

Sanji blinked. "House?"

His comrade looked at him with a broad, lopsided grin before he lowered his sunglasses. "Ah, you'll love it."

The blonde shook his head. "How?"

Zoro shrugged. "After my squad went AWOL we all found it difficult to fit back into society. Ajax, my lieutenant, got asked to join the Underworld network system and now trades arms to outside countries. The weapons we got out of that Mercedes and those assassins were top quality. Ajax was able to sell them for an excellent price." He looked at a shocked Sanji. "What?"

"Is this legal?"

Zoro made a face. "We're now a weapons manufacturer."

Sanji pressed himself deeper in the seat. "_What_?"

"We'll do this for a couple of years," Zoro assured him. "Make a heap of money and then we'll retire early and work for charity, or something." He reached an arm towards Sanji, his hand open. "Agreed?"

Sanji narrowed his eyes and took his hand. "You've certainly put a lot of thought into this." He shook the hand up and down before letting go and looked out the window. "But a few years won't harm us."

Sanji watched as the city grew smaller and the grey colours faded to green and the stale city smoke grew sweeter. He smiled to himself as he took his last look at the city and turned to face the front. Ahead lay a promising life of goodness.

Maybe now he could fulfil his dreams.


	18. Epilogue: The letter

**"There is no time between the day we met, and the day we'll meet again."**

**- Hannah Lewis -**

**ONE YEAR LATER…**

She growled in annoyance as another tower of papers made its way towards her and promptly thudded down onto her desk. She massaged her forehead and looked at the weary face staring back at her from over the pile of paper.

"Murder reports," Luffy sighed, resting his chin on the papers. "Apparently, the cops in the city are getting overloaded, so we're getting ten percent of all their cases." He opened the top folder as Nami bit hard on her pen.

"As if we don't have enough on our own hands in this backwater town," she snapped.

Luffy flicked through the pages and made a face. "Anyone would think the word's gone mad."

Nami stood up sharply, her chair shooting away as she threw her arms into the air. "Of course the world's bloody mad! It's all frigging crazy!" She stormed off into the office next door.

Luffy bit his lip and picked up the top half of the tower. "I'll take this lot, eh?"

"Just, get rid of it," Nami's voice called back.

Luffy smiled and turned to leave, suddenly coming face to face with his boss. "Ah!" He almost dropped the files. "Smoker, sir!" he backed away from the large man, not from dislike but from the strong stench of tobacco. "Umm…yes?"

"I'm not after you," his boss replied lowly, managing his words out despite the two thick tobaccos dominating his mouth. "Where's Lieutenant?"

Luffy managed to keep his face calm. "She's having a momentary breakdown concerning the madness of this estranged world and won't be available for several hours." He blinked his eyes innocently at his boss.

Smoker scratched his white hair and glared down at his fellow policeman. "_Where_ is she?" He repeated impatiently.

The young man pointed to the room next door and sighed. "In there."

"Right, tell me that first up next time," his boss said and left.

Luffy watched the door close, for a moment or two there was silence, then the voices inside started to grow louder. Within moments a full blown argument went headway with Nami's shouting in the lead. He stepped back as the orange hair woman came thundering out of the room, purposefully knocking over the pile of reports and left. Luffy managed to catch a few of them before they hit the ground but most spewed their contents all over the tiled floor.

Smoker lit a cigar and looked at Luffy. "I've changed my mind, Second Lieutenant. Get the hell outta here," he inhaled slowly, "and take that bloody Lieutenant with you."

Luffy gathered up the papers and randomly shuffled them into position – he was going to have to sort them out later. "You mean we can leave early?"

His boss lit yet another cigar and sucked on the two thoughtfully. "Yeah, just go."

Luffy nodded, left the reports at the desk and ran out of the room, grinning. He found his friend out the back, occasionally sipping at a mug of coffee. She looked up as he approached and managed a smile. Luffy sighed and took a seat beside her and for a moment, he listened to the silence.

"Smoker's let us off early," he paused. "Are you all right, Nami?"

She looked at him and frowned. "Yes. Why?"

"You just seem so," he paused as he looked for her reaction. "Tense."

Nami's frown darkened. "Tense?"

Luffy felt the waters deepen and decided to quickly change the subject. "Want to get pizza?"

She sighed. "Again?"

"I can't think of anything else and I'm sick of cooking."

"Yeah, you're cooking sucks."

"Beats eating oranges all the time."

Nami glared at him. "Keep the oranges out of this."

Luffy winced and obediently did so. "Maybe Usopp'll have us over for dinner."

"Great idea," Nami beamed, getting to her feet. "Give him a call."

* * *

Luffy pulled the commodore up the gravel drive and turned off the ignition. He sat back in the seat and looked at Usopp's truck which was parked behind, and then across to Nami who had her forehead pressed against the window.

"Don't talk to me, Luffy."

He blinked. "I wasn't going to say anything!"

She turned around and looked at him. "You always stay in the car when you're about to say something. So say it."

"Fine," Luffy smiled. "I hope Usopp's serving beef tonight…I didn't like the fruit salad last time," he grumbled.

Nami whacked him across the back of his head. "Don't be so selfish," she snapped. "Be bloody grateful that he lets us come for dinner."

Luffy rubbed his head and unbuckled his seat belt. "That's why I wasn't going to say anything!"

The two stepped out of the car and were immediately greeted by the dogs who heard the slamming of the car dooms and came whizzing around the side of the house with tongues hanging out of their mouths. All three of them jumped up at Luffy, knocking him over, barking furiously.

Nami wrinkled her nose. "Luffy!" She snapped. "Don't let those mutts jump all over you…Usopp!"

Usopp came smiling out of his low set house, his dark haired daughter in one arm. She waved her small, chubby hand at Nami.

"Hey there!" Usopp grinned, coming out to the car. He saw Luffy rolling on the ground with the dogs. "Oi," he whistled loudly between his tongue and teeth. "C'mon you scoundrels, off him."

Nami rubbed her ears – she hated it when he did that. "Hello Nina," she cooed, ruffling the child's fuzzy hair. "Have you been a good girl for Daddy?"

Luffy picked himself off the ground and dusted his pants and shirt. "Jeez," he groaned. "They've gotten so big! Like great big cows. You could probably ride them," he paused as he gave this some thought – an idea momentarily glowed across his face. He shook his head. "So," he rubbed his hands together, "what about dinner?"

Usopp lead them inside. Nami dumped her handbag on the kitchen table and Luffy hung the keys up on the hook.

"So," began Nami, "anything been happening lately?"

"Umm…"

Nami watched as Usopp's back visibly stiffened. He turned around slowly, looking down at his young daughter as if wondering whether or not he should say anything more. "Well…" he rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "I kinda got _this_ letter today."

Luffy took his god-daughter from Usopp and moved onto the dining room where he noticed dinner was already laid out and waiting for him. "Oh-ho! Kaya! This looks deli-" he closed the door behind him.

Nami returned her focus on her old friend. "Letter, you were saying?"

"Oh, umm, yeah…" he scratched his nose. "It was from…"

"The bank?"

"Zoro," Usopp finished. He opened the refrigerator and scanned its contents for no particular reason. "It was good to hear from him," he closed the door again, but turned to Nami with a wrinkled face. "But after _all_ these years? It kind of shocked me, I mean…" shaking his head he reached above the fridge and brought down an envelope. "Well, here, anyway."

She took it and pulled the white paper from out of the opened envelope, she unfolded it and read:

_'Hi Usopp,_

_This is probably sudden, I guess. So I hope you're doing all right and that. Sanji told me you got married a year or something ago. Congrats. I know you're still in contact with Luffy. Could you tell him that I said hi. Thanks. And Nami too. She'd probably rip this letter or something. _

_I know it's been, I don't know, ten years maybe? Since we last spoke or seen each other, but it'd be good if we could meet up again. If you're awkward about this, I would be too, so you don't have to reply to this letter or anything. Sanji'll be sending you an invitation someday soon anyway._

_So, yeah. Sudden. Sorry, if my English is choppy. I've just spent the last goddamn year in bloody Russia. Find it hard to remember where to put the commas and full stops._

_If you ever speak to Nami tell her I've wiped her debt._

_Stay well._

_From Roronoa Zoro'_

Usopp watched as Nami rubbed her forehead, her eyes closed and her eyebrows slightly creased. "Yeah, I see what you mean."

* * *

**AN:// O-WA-RIIIIIIII!!!!!! Huzzah! Kanpai! Yays! etc etc. **

**Well, that's it for the Broke Blokes. The sequel (which I've also written -.-) follows Luffy and Nami's life as it collides with Zoro and Sanji's. So yeah, it's called "The Debt Collector" and I'll probably put it up in a week or so!! ^-^ Love y'all who reviewed and stayed with me for so long. You guys ROCK!!  
**


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